Gib and the Gray Ghost by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

stop, pushed her behind him, and tiptoed forward. The gray was at the manger eating hungrily, but he stopped long enough to snort and toss his head. Peering around Gib’s shoulder, Livy gasped and then stared wide-eyed and openmouthed until he pulled her away.
    Walking backward, still staring toward the gray’s stall, Livy was babbling. “He’s so big and beautiful,” she said. “He’s so—silvery, and the dapple spots are like snowflakes. Like snowflakes on silver.” She stopped to look back again. “But what are those marks all over his back? Like something scratched him?”
    As Gib opened the door he said, “Yeah, I guess something scratched him. But you listen to me, Livy Thornton. Don’t you ever come out here again unless I know you’re coming. You hear me?”
    As Livy listened her eyes squinted up and her lips tightened and tipped down at the corners. “And you listen to me, Gib Whittaker. You’ve got no right to tell me what to do. And you know why.”
    Gib knew why, all right.

Chapter 15
    O N THE THIRD DAY of the storm it was still snowing, and the telephone wires were still down. Out in the barn the big gray horse went on being as wild and threatening as ever, and inside the Rocking M ranch house, the people around the kitchen table were tense and nervous. They were all anxious, first of all about Hy, who was still very sick, but also about Gib and the dapple gray.
    Ever since that first morning when Gib was so late for breakfast the ladies had done a lot of fussing about the mysterious visitor. Fussing and insisting, at least Miss Hooper had, that she must see the animal that was taking up so much of Gib’s time. Gib had thought up a lot of good excuses, the best one being that it was snowing too hard.
    But that morning the sky cleared a bit and right after breakfast Miss Hooper announced that she was going to bundle up and go out to the barn to see the mysterious creature for herself. When Gib realized that Miss Hooper had made up her mind, he felt pretty frantic. Actually the horrible welts that crisscrossed the gray’s body had gone down a bit already, and most of the bloody scabs had disappeared. In just a few more days the marks would hardly be noticeable, but they weren’t there yet. Miss Hooper’s sharp eyes were sure to spot them, and then she’d surely tell Missus Julia that the poor tortured animal in the barn would always be crazy with fear and anger.
    Gib knew there was no stopping Miss Hooper when she got that look in her eyes, so he gave up and agreed. “Just let me go out first and pack the path down a little with my snowshoes,” he insisted, and Miss Hooper agreed to that much of a postponement. That much, but no more. But those few extra minutes just might be enough for the plan Gib was working on. He was heading for the storm porch when, to his surprise, Livy said, “Me too. Wait a minute, Gib. I want to help pack the snow.”
    What made Livy’s announcement especially surprising was that it was the first time she’d spoken to Gib since he’d ordered her out of the barn three days before. For a minute he thought his plan was ruined for sure, but then, remembering how long it always took Livy to get into her boots and snowshoes, he decided he still might have time to give it a try.
    “All right come on then,” he told Livy. Then he broke every existing record getting into his barnyard gear, across the yard, and into the barn. Once there, he managed to get out of his snowshoes and climb up to unscrew the lightbulb nearest to the gray’s stall, and then get back into his snowshoes and out the door before Livy came stomping across the yard.
    The dim light was the first thing Miss Hooper remarked on when, bundled up to her eyeballs and galumphing along in a pair of men’s wading boots, she made it out to the barn. “Awfully dim in here. What’s wrong with the lights?” she said, and then, “And where is this mysterious animal of yours?” Gib was still pointing out the