Riding Star by Stacy Gregg

worthless.
    â€œI’ll be back in a second,” Georgie told the others. She ducked under the railings of the fence and strode out across the track towards Tommy Doyle and the skinny chestnut Thoroughbred.
    Tommy Doyle was a short, stocky man. From his height Georgie guessed that he had probably been a jockey once, but you could tell by his width that it must have been a long time ago. He wore his fedora cap low over his sunken eyes, and he pushed the hat back now so he could get a good look at the young girl who was walking towards him, calling his name.
    â€œMr Doyle?” Georgie smiled. “Hi, I’m Georgie Parker. I’m a friend of John Conway’s.”
    Tommy Doyle nodded. “Listen, miss, whatever girl-guide club you’re selling cookies for, can this wait? I’ve got my hands full at the moment here.”
    Georgie wasn’t about to be put off. “Mr Conway told me your horse has come last in all three of his races so far.”
    â€œHe told you that, did he?” Tommy Doyle didn’t exactly look thrilled to hear it. Georgie realised she’d better cut to the chase before he told her to get lost.
    â€œI’m looking to buy polo ponies and I thought that since he wasn’t doing so well as a racehorse you might want to sell him to me.”
    Tommy Doyle looked at her in disbelief. “Are you trying to make me an offer on my horse?”
    â€œUh-huh,” Georgie said. “If you’re interested in selling him.”
    â€œOh, he’s for sale all right.” Tommy Doyle took his hat off and ran a hand through his oiled-back hair. “What sort of money are we talking about?”
    Georgie took a deep breath. “A hundred and fifty dollars.”
    It was a cheeky offer and she knew it, but as far as she was concerned she had nothing to lose. Right now the chestnut gelding standing in front of her was on a major losing streak.
    Tommy Doyle put his hat back on and looked Georgie in the eyes. “I’ll sell him to you for five hundred,” he said.
    â€œTwo hundred is my best offer,” Georgie replied.
    â€œFour hundred.”
    Georgie took the envelope out of her coat pocket. “Two hundred – cash in your hand and I’ll take the horse with me.”
    Tommy Doyle shook his head in disbelief. The bare-faced cheek of this girl!
    He put out his hand for Georgie to shake. “You’ve got a deal,” he said.
    *
    Georgie was shaking with excitement as she walked back over to the other girls. “I just bought a horse!”
    The others couldn’t believe it when Georgie told them the bargain price she had paid.
    â€œWhat’s his name?” Emily asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Georgie had to admit. “I forgot to ask!”
    The chestnut’s name turned out to be Saratoga Firefly.
    â€œWell, that’s his racing name,” the jockey told the girls as he unsaddled the little chestnut and handed Daisy the reins, “but back at the yard we call him Spinner.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHe likes to turn round in mid-gallop. Does a full one-eighty on the track!”
    â€œHe’s got good conformation,” Daisy assessed. “Look at those hindquarters.”
    â€œHe’s got a keen look in his eyes too,” Emily agreed. “Haven’t you, Spinner?”
    â€œI don’t think we should call him that,” Georgie said, stroking the chestnut’s face. “He needs a proper polo pony name. Something short and easy to remember on the field.”
    â€œHow about Lucky?” Alice suggested, “As in, he’s lucky he’s not pet food.”
    â€œHow about Marco?” Emily suggested. “You know, like Marco Polo?”
    The others groaned at the joke, but the name seemed to stick.
    â€œHow are we going to get him home?” Alice asked. “He’s too big to fit on the back of the pick-up with me and Emily.”
    â€œMr Conway has offered