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The Surly Trainer






 

Tony Traynor moved swiftly to catch Mr. Harlow before he could fall. " Quick! Give me a hand! " he exclaimed to Hugh Morston.

Supporting the ranch owner under each arm, the two managed to get the limp and nearly unconscious man into the house. Nancy followed after picking up the newspaper that had fallen from Mr. Harlow's hands.

Once again, as on other occasions, her first-aid training proved invaluable. Nancy loosened her host's collar, had the two men elevate his feet, and then rubbed his wrists until Mr. Harlow's color began returning to normal.

Meanwhile, Tony Traynor had summoned the maid, who hastily brought her employer’s usual medication. " He's supposed to take a spoonful of this twice a day, " she said, her own face pale with alarm. " I remind him every morning, but often he won’t bother.'

With Tony's help, Nancy was able to spoon a dose of the medicine into Mr. Harlow's mouth, and presently he had recovered enough to sit up and talk.

" Shouldn't we call your doctor? " Nancy asked him anxiously.

" No, no, my dear. But I appreciate your concern." He patted her hand to reassure her. " It's my own fault for not following his orders. I suffer from a touch of high blood pressure, you see, but I'm quite all right now, thanks to you people! "

Hugh Morston apologized for upsetting his host with the unpleasant news item, although Nancy noticed that he did not really seem much disturbed by what had happened. He said good-bye and drove off a few minutes later. Tony Traynor also left as soon as he was satisfied that Mr. Harlow was all right.

By this time, Nancy had been able to glance at the newspaper. The item in question was a paragraph in a racing column:

Now that Shooting Star may not get a chance to run in the River Heights Handicap, many experts seem to be having second thoughts about the two-year-old's chances of winning that important race. Even his owner, Roger Harlow, is rumored to be worried that the stolen thoroughbred might not run well enough to justify all the money that was bet on him.

" Can you imagine how that makes me feel? " Mr. Harlow asked when he saw Nancy reading the column.

" Obviously pretty angry." Nancy hesitated before asking with a frown, " This implies that you won't mind if Shooting Star doesn't run in the handicap, doesn't it? "

" You bet it does! And that's not the worst of it. I don't mind telling you that I staked a lot of money on Shooting Star to win. But once the news came out that he'd been stolen, somebody began spreading a rumor that I'd staged the theft myself! "

" But why? " Nancy gasped incredulously.

" The rumor also hints that I knew Shooting Star wasn't in good racing form, and I didn't want to lose all the money Id bet on him. Therefore I arranged to have him stolen so he wouldn't have to run. Its all untrue, of course. But now this columnist has spread the lie even wider by printing it in the newspaper! "

Nancy was shocked, but, in order not to raise her hosts blood pressure again, thought it wisest to change the subject. " I guess that's all the more reason why we have to find Shooting Star as soon as possible, '' she said lightly.

" You're right, my dear, '' Roger Harlow agreed with a smile. " Suppose we go out to the stable now so you can see where and how the theft occurred.''

Nancy reminded her host that perhaps he should not exert himself too soon after his attack, but Mr. Harlow assured her that he had entirely recovered and was feeling perfectly well.

Leaving the house, they strolled across the wide sweep of emerald lawn toward the white-painted, red-roofed stables. Like every other part of Rainbow Ranch, the latter appeared to be kept in very good order. Several horses could be seen grazing in the paddock, and at least one was being exercised by a groom.

After pausing on the way to point out each of his thoroughbreds by name, Mr. Harlow introduced Nancy to a man standing in the stable doorway who had been watching them approach.

" This is my trainer, Kurt Ellum, " he said. " Kurt, this is Miss Nancy Drew. She's quite a sleuth. You may have heard of her. I'm hoping she can help us find Shooting Star."

The trainer gave a rather surly grunt. " She'll have to be pretty good to do that. Even the police don't seem to be having much luck."

Doffing his long-visored cap, he shook hands brusquely.

" How do you do, " Nancy said with a smile. " You're right that it won't be easy to do better than the police. But I've worked with them before, and they always seem to appreciate any clues I can turn up."

Ellum, a heavy man with short, bristly, dark hair, was wearing a khaki shirt with rolled-up sleeves and jeans tucked into cowboy boots. " Lots of luck, " he commented skeptically. " They've already been here a half-dozen times and questioned everyone who works around the stables."

Nancy refused to be put off by the trainer's rather scornful manner. His attitude seemed to imply that no mere slip of a girl had any chance of succeeding where regular officers of the law had failed.

After looking through the two connecting stable buildings, each one neatly partitioned into separate stalls, Nancy asked, " Was anyone on guard the night Shooting Star was stolen? "

" Yes, Alf Sanchez, " Ellum replied bitterly. " He fell asleep on the job."

" Alf was a good enough stablehand, " put in Mr. Harlow mildly. 'Tin sure he didn't mean to let us down. But he's getting on in years and probably couldn't help dozing off."

Nancy noticed her host's use of the past tense in saying that Sanchez had been a good stablehand. " Doesn't he work here anymore? " she asked.

" You think I'd keep him on after he let Mr. Harlow's best horse get stolen right under his nose? " Ellum retorted. " I fired him! "

" Where is he now? "

" I believe he's still living in Keanesville, " said Mr. Harlow.

Nancy asked for his address and wrote it down, saying that she would like to question him.

" Go ahead, " said Ellum, " but I can tell you right now what sort of silly story he'll tell you. He'll claim someone drugged his coffee thermos that night to make him pass out. That's the excuse he tried to hand us and the cops."

" Are you sure it's not true? "

" Absolutely! The police had his thermos tested in their crimelab and proved it contained no trace of any sleeping drug."

" It's understandable that Alf got drowsy, " Roger Harlow put in. " As I say, he's an elderly chap, and at his age he needs his rest. It was no doubt my fault for not choosing one of the younger hands to act as watchman."

Nancy asked thoughtfully, " Could the noise of the fireworks be heard this far from the park? "

" Yes, that's a good point, " Harlow said. " The cook was here, preparing a snack for us all when we got back from the celebration. She said the booms and bangs were so loud, they sounded as if the firecrackers were going off right outside the house. Undoubtedly, that's why the thieves picked that particular time for the theft—so the noise would cover any sounds that Shooting Star might make when he was taken from his stall. But once Alf got used to the sounds, they evidently weren't enough to stop him from dozing off."

Mr. Harlow invited Nancy to stay for lunch, but she explained that she had a date with her boyfriend. Ned Nickerson called for her soon after she returned home, and they started off in his car for a restaurant in River Heights.

" I saw Professor Barnes this morning, " Ned reported. " He told me he called the contest sponsors, and they've agreed to let him change the information on the entry form. So now you can be listed as one of the actresses in our film and play the role we planned."

" Oh, Ned, I'm so glad! " Nancy said happily.

" Well, that's the good news."

" You mean there's bad news? "

" The worst! Because of that fire Saturday night, Ullman Realty has decided we can’t use the Grimsby Mansion." The expression on Ned’s face was as gloomy as his tone of voice.

" Oh, no! " Nancy exclaimed in dismay. " Surely, Mr. Ullman wouldn't be so unfair? The film club's not to blame for the fire! "

" He's convinced we are to blame, and the upshot is he's not going to risk any further damage to the property! "

Nancy fell silent as she pondered the problem. The realtor's attitude might be unfair, but there was no use complaining about it. The question was what could be done to change his mind? " I think we should ask Dr. Davis to talk to Mr. Ullman, " Nancy declared after a few minutes. " She seemed like a very fair-minded person. Maybe he'll listen to her.

And I'll try to persuade him, too, Ned. Perhaps, when he calms down, he’ll listen to reason."

" Thanks, Nancy. I hope you're right. But I sure wouldn't count on it! "

When they arrived at the Purple Parrot in River Heights, the restaurant was already filling up with noontime patrons and a cheerful buzz of conversation filled the air. Nancy was delighted to see her two closest friends among them.

" Look, Ned! There are Bess and George! " she murmured, waving.

Ned followed as she made her way to their table. Nancy hoped that Bess's and George's high-spirited chatter might help to cheer Ned up, and outwardly at least her plan seemed to work.

" Have you ever been to the Deene Art Gallery in Fernwood? " Bess asked. She babbled on enthusiastically when both Ned and Nancy shook their heads. " You should go. There's a marvelous exhibit of ceramics going on there. I'm dying to see it! "

" Guess why, " George said jokingly. Then she confided to Ned and Nancy in an audible whisper, " A handsome sculptor's showing his work at that gallery. Bess saw his picture in the paper, so now she's trying every way she can think of to meet him! "

" That's not so, George! I really admire his work! " Bess declared, pink-faced with embarrassment. " Just because he's good-looking doesn't mean he can't be talented! "

" No, but it certainly helps to attract buyers, " George retorted with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

" I suspect most artists do need encouragement before they become well-known, " Nancy said. " I'll go with you, Bess."

" Thanks, Nancy, " the girl said gratefully. " I'm sure you'll like this sculptor's ceramic figures as much as I do."

Ned seemed noticeably cheerful to Nancy by the time they said good-bye to Bess and George, but she was not prepared for what followed.

Ullman Realty was located only two blocks from the restaurant. As the two young people walked into the firm's storefront office, a woman receptionist frowned severely at them from behind her desk. The door to Mr. Ullman's private office was wide open. The realtor's face darkened with fury as he saw them. He sprang to his feet and burst from his office, shaking his fist at Ned.

" Get out of here this instant, you pyromaniac! "

 






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