The Case of the Missing Dinosaur Egg Read Online Free Page B

under the peak of my helmet. Was there a conspiracy going on here? Not only were Tayla, Noah and Kate grinning like a team-ad for family dental-care, but there was even a smirk on the horse’s face.
    I clenched my already aching teeth in a snarl fit to scare the spout off a teapot and jumped to my feet.
    “Okay, you…you… thing you,” I growled, locking eyes with the grinning horse. “It’s time we got one thing straight here. I’m the boss. I’m the chief. The big Kahoona.” I gave him a noisy slap on the neck just to make sure he got my drift. “And I say we try that trotting stuff one more time. Right?”
    “Dunno whether that’d be a good move.” Noah banged his boots against the wooden fence as he spoke.
    I eyeballed him but didn’t answer.
    “See, we have rules here at Treehaven ,” he went on, his voice smoother than the chocolate on a Mars bar. “If someone falls off their horse they have to take a dare from the Dare-Box.”
    I frowned. Dare box? What was this scabby, pip-squeak raving on about now?
    “You’ve already come off twice today so you’re facing the Double-Dare box. One more fall and you win the jackpot.” He tipped his head to one side, dangled his tongue from the side of his mouth like an idiot. “Whoooooo!” he moaned, all scary-like. “Who knows what dangers are hidden in the Triple-Dare box?”
    I must have looked like a fish in a goldfish-bowl as I opened my mouth to give him a blast—couldn’t think of anything mean enough to say—so closed it again.
    Before climbing back on Shakespeare, I stood and watched Noah swagger off to the stables.
    Short. Dark. And totally irritating.
    And one to watch out for if I didn’t want to land in more trouble.

FIVE
    I gazed at the baggy green canvas thing puddling at my feet. Okay, I knew it was a horse rug. I also knew it belonged to Shakespeare because Kate’s last words before she shut the stable door and walked off were “…and don’t forget to put Shakespeare’s rug on when you’ve finished brushing him.”
    Duh…
    I’d also worked out that wrapping Shakespeare in this heavy piece of canvas was a good idea because:
    (a) With his bony old body he’d probably feel embarrassed without a coat.
    (b) It was a good way to get his sticking-up hair to lay down flat.
    (c) Old people feel the cold so I guess old horses do too.
    Determined to succeed in my mission this time, I grabbed the rug firmly in both hands and heaved it in the direction of Shakespeare’s back.
    If only I knew which end was up.
    Still munching chaff, Shakespeare lifted his nose from the feed bin, twisted his ancient head around and gave me this long-suffering, God-you’re-such-an-idiot eye-roll. Still not sure if he’d got his message across, he let out a deep sigh, then went back to his main purpose in life—eating.
    “Do you want a hand with that?”
    I stiffened at Noah’s voice behind me.
    “No. I’m managing fine, thank you,” I replied, watching the evil piece of green canvas slide off the horse’s back and onto the stable floor for the third time in sixty seconds.
    No way was I asking Short Dark and Irritating for help. Okay, I might be close to chopping the dumb rug into sixty thousand pieces and burying the remains in the manure pile, but no way would I ask for his help.
    “That’s not how you do it,” Noah growled, opening the stable door and coming inside. “Here, I’ll throw the rug on and you can do up the straps.”
    Well—if he put it that way. With a resigned shrug I stood back and watched Noah hoist the stubborn piece of green canvas into the air and flick it over Shakespeare’s back. No fuss. Easy peasy. As simple as eating an ice-cream cone.
    As he straightened the rug, he twisted two leather straps through the horse’s back legs and fastened them.
    “Can you at least do up the front end?” he snapped, as though talking to someone who needed a ‘Horse-care for Dummies’ book.
    “Mmmmggg,” I grunted. Perhaps I could