The Mystery Horse by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page A

children piled into the family station wagon. Watch poked his head out the rear window, yipping with excitement.
    â€œHe thinks he’s going on vacation, too,” Jessie said.
    â€œDon’t worry about Watch,” Grandfather told her. “I’ll make sure he gets plenty of treats while you’re away.”
    â€œThere’s an extra box of dog biscuits in the pantry,” Violet reminded him.
    Grandfather smiled. “I’ll remember that. And I’ll play with him in the garden every night after dinner.”
    â€œGood,” Benny said. “He’ll like that.”
    The station wagon kicked up clouds of dust as they rolled along narrow country roads. A little while later, Henry said, “It’s not much further now.” He looked at the map. “You should turn left at the next junction, Grandfather.”
    â€œLook, there’s a sign for the farm!” Jessie said, leaning forward.
    â€œOh, it’s pretty,” Violet said. The name Sunny Oaks was burned into a circle of polished wood ringed with bark.
    â€œI bet we’re going to wake up everybody,” Benny said sleepily from the backseat. “No one gets up this early.”
    â€œFarmers do,” Henry told him. “They get up at the crack of dawn to start their chores. I bet they’ve already had their breakfast and are feeding the animals.”
    â€œWe’re here!” Jessie sang out a few minutes later.
    Grandfather turned slowly onto a dirt path bordered by towering oak trees. In the distance was a two-story white farmhouse, an enormous red barn, and a silo. There were several small sheds and a long, flat building that looked like a log cabin.
    â€œThat must be the bunkhouse,” Henry said as they approached the main house.
    â€œLook at all the animals!” Violet cried. “Pigs and cows and goats and chickens . . . ”
    â€œTake a look at the pasture over there,” Henry said. He pointed to a green field bordered by a split rail fence. “I can see five horses grazing.”
    â€œCan we ride them?” Benny said. He was practically jumping up and down on the seat in excitement.
    â€œI think they’re working horses,” Grandfather said. He slowed down so everyone could take a closer look. “You see what broad shoulders and strong chests they have?”
    â€œThe two chestnut ones look like quarter horses,” Violet said thoughtfully. She knew all about the different types and breeds from reading horse books in the library.
    â€œWhy are they called quarter horses?” Benny asked, puzzled.
    â€œThey got their name because people used to race them a quarter of a mile,” Violet explained.
    Grandfather pulled up in front of the main house, and a friendly-looking woman with two children hurried over to the car.
    â€œYou must be the Aldens,” the woman said as Benny and Jessie tumbled out of the backseat. “I’m Cynthia Morgan, and these are my children, Danny and Sarah. Welcome to Sunny Oaks.” She wiped her hands on her apron, and Violet noticed that she had a spot of flour on her nose. “You’ll have to excuse me, I had to whip up an extra batch of biscuits this morning.”
    â€œWe’ve missed breakfast. I knew it!” Benny said.
    Danny, a red-haired boy of twelve, laughed. “Don’t worry. I saved a couple of extra biscuits. They even have butter and strawberry jam on them.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two biscuits wrapped in napkins. “My mom makes the best biscuits in the whole world.”
    Benny munched happily on the biscuits while Grandfather helped Henry unload the suitcases. Violet said a shy hello to Sarah Morgan, who looked about ten years old.
    â€œMy husband wanted to greet you,” Mrs. Morgan said, “but he’s busy in the barn. One of our dairy cows, Sheba, had a fine calf last night.”
    â€œA newborn calf!” Violet cried. “Can we