The Case of the Racehorse Ringer Read Online Free

wrong with the rest of us?”
    “Well,” Wiggins answered, “I gotta go because I’m in charge of the investigation. Right?”
    Shiner nodded.
    “And Gertie’s gotta go because she’s the only one what knows where everything is. And anyways, we’re doing this for her dad.”
    “But what about Sparrow?”
    “Sparrow’s gotta go because he’s the littlest.”
    “What’s that gotta do with it?” said Shiner.
    “If you’ll just shut up for a minute, I’ll tell you.”
    “Yes, shut up, Shiner,” Sparrow said impatiently. “I wanna know.”
    Wiggins explained how most stable lads want to become jockeys. They want to ride horses and win races. And to be a jockey, you need to be small – the smaller the better. Big people, he said, weigh more than small ones and the less weight a horse has to carry on its back, the faster it can run.
    “Imagine,” Wiggins told Shiner, “if I asked you to run up the road, fast as you can. Then I put a bag of bricks on your back and asked you to do it again. It wouldn’t half slow you down.”
    “Sparrow ain’t gonna ride in a race, is he?” Beaver asked.
    “No,” Wiggins replied. “But he’s gonna be a stable lad. So he’s gotta look like he
could
be a jockey.”
    “Hang on a minute,” Sparrow butted in. “What d’you mean, I’m gonna be a stable lad?”
    “Well, if we’re gonna find anything out, we need somebody inside the stables,” Wiggins explained. “The best person would be Gertie, of course. She knows about horses and riding. But Major Lee knows who she is. And she’s a girl, so they wouldn’t give her a job anyway.”
    “That’s true,” said Beaver. “’Cept how do you know there’s a job goin’?”
    Wiggins sighed heavily. “Because they just lost a lad, didn’t they?”
    “You mean Tommie?”
    “Exac’ly. The lad what was murdered. They’re gonna need a replacement for him, aren’t they? So if Sparrow turns up telling ’em he’s looking for a job…”
    “But I don’t know nothin’ about horses and stables,” protested Sparrow.
    “Don’t worry,” said Gertie, “they’ll learn you.”
    “Teach you,” Queenie corrected her.
    “What will I have to do?” Sparrow asked.
    “Just do as you’re told,” said Gertie. “Bit of muckin’ out, feedin’, waterin’, groomin’. Whatever they tell you.”
    “No, I meant what will I have to do about Gertie’s dad?”
    “Just keep your eyes and ears open,” Wiggins said. “You’re gonna be
my
eyes and ears inside those stables.”
    “But where will
you
be?”
    “Me and Gertie—”
    “Gertie and I,” Queenie corrected him automatically.
    “Gertie and me will be staying in her caravan in the woods.”
    That evening, as it was getting dark, Wiggins, Gertie and Sparrow walked round to Mr Gorman’s dairy. They had been to see him earlier in the day, and he had agreed to give them a ride out to the farm when he went to collect his milk. Because he set out so early, he said they could sleep in his stable behind the shop, to be ready to leave with him in the morning. Luckily there were two stalls in the stable. Mr Gorman’s horse, Betsy, lived in one of them. The three Boys bedded down in the other, making themselves quite comfortable on bales of straw and hay.
    It was still dark when Mr Gorman came to wake them up. Mrs Gorman kindly brought them mugs of milk and hunks of bread and cheese for breakfast. Not knowing when they would eat again, Wiggins stuffed some of it in his pocket, and they wolfed the rest down hungrily while the milkman led Betsy out and harnessed her up. He loaded the empty churns into the trap and the Boys climbed aboard. Then they were off, trotting briskly through the empty London streets.
    As dawn began to light up the sky, the pony and trap passed the edge of Hampstead Heath. Soon they were passing through the city’s northern suburbs, where the houses were less crowded. Then they reached fields, with cows grazing peacefully in them, and knew they