The Mystery of the Masked Rider Read Online Free Page B

Bending down, Colleen began sloshing the sudsy water onto the mare’s legs. “Fortunately, one application of a blister doesn’t really hurt a horse. And whoever put it on didn’t use much. It probably made Nightingale’s skin tender, so she didn’t want to bend her pastern.”
    â€œUh, I don’t want to sound too dumb,” Bess said hesitantly. “But what’s a pastern?”
    Colleen pointed to what looked like the horse’s ankle. “It’s between the hoof and the fetlock.” Colleen stood up, and Nancy caught a whiff of the strong scent of the blister.
    â€œThe blister will wear off overnight,” Colleen said with a sigh. “But this makes three days in a row I haven’t worked Nightingale. And she needs to be in super shape if she’s going to do well at the show.”
    â€œWhat exactly is a blister and where could someone get it?” Nancy asked.
    â€œA blister is a counterirritant that you rub on ahorse’s leg. It’s supposed to make sprains and pulled tendons heal faster.”
    â€œHuh?” Bess looked confused. “How can making a horse’s leg sore help it heal?”
    â€œWhen the blister burns the area, it supposedly speeds up the flow of blood to the leg, which promotes healing. It’s used a lot on racehorses. Most people who show horses don’t use it, because it can peel off the hair.”
    â€œDo you keep a bottle in your tack room?” Nancy asked.
    Colleen nodded. “In the medicine chest. I haven’t used it in ages.”
    Nancy handed Bess the lead line. Inside the tack room she found the medicine chest mounted on the wall. Opening the door, she read the various labels. Finally she found the blister tucked behind a box of cotton. When she pulled out the bottle, she checked for signs that it had recently been opened. But there was no telltale scent of the strong-smelling liquid, and the top was screwed on tightly.
    â€œWhoever put the blister on Nightingale didn’t get it from your medicine chest,” Nancy said when she rejoined her friends, who were standing outside in the driveway. Colleen was hosing off Nightingale’s legs.
    â€œThat doesn’t mean anything. You can buy blister at any tack shop,” Colleen said.
    â€œStill, only someone familiar with horses would know about it.”
    Colleen snorted. “That’s just about everyone I know.”
    â€œCould someone you’re competing against in the International have done this?” Nancy asked.
    â€œMaybe,” Colleen replied with a shrug. “But they’d be taking a big risk for nothing. I mean, the blister won’t keep me from showing.”
    â€œTrue.” Nancy fell silent as Colleen wiped down her horse’s legs. Who could have sneaked in and put the blister on Nightingale? It had to have been someone who knew about the Healeys’ alarm system.
    â€œColleen, what time did you and Phil come in last night?” Nancy asked.
    Colleen stood up. “About midnight, I think.”
    â€œAnd was the driveway alarm on?”
    â€œYes. My dad said it woke him up when we came home.”
    â€œHmmm.” Nancy began to pace the gravel drive. “So the person who did this had to know how to avoid the alarm system.” Abruptly she halted in front of Colleen. “Did you hear Phil’s car leave after he brought you home?”
    â€œSure. He came in for coffee and then . . .” Suddenly Colleen’s eyes narrowed, and she gave Nancy a suspicious look. “Are you trying to pin this thing on Phil?”
    â€œNo. But he is a suspect. Everyone is,” Nancy added quickly. She knew how mad people got when someone close to them was accused of wrongdoing.
    â€œWell, forget it,” Colleen said firmly. “Phil might be jealous of the time I spend with Nightingale, but he’d never do anything to hurt her. He knows how much she means to