"Shara? Oh yes, I know you. Your sister comes to the Pony Club doesn't she."

"Yes, um, well, last night we had a pony stolen from us ..."

Mrs Cunningham exploded with questions so Shara had to wade through them before she could get back to her own.

"Could you tell me the names of the other girls who had their ponies stolen?"

"I don't know all of them," said Mrs Cunningham, "But three girls from my Club had it happen to them. Shelley, Elizabeth and Nikanda. Do you want their phone numbers?"

"Yes please."

"Wait a minute, I'll just get the book."

When Mrs Cunningham returned she gave Shara their full names, addresses and phone numbers. Shara thanked her and hung up.

Over the next half hour she rang the three girls and asked them what happened. They told her all they knew, which wasn't much, because there's not much anyone can say about a pony that disappears, without trace, at night, but there was one thing which caught Shara's attention. It was the last girl on the list who really clinched the matter.

"I had my pony for three weeks," said Nikanda, "She was a real sweety. A beautiful tan filly, with brown socks and a lovely mane. I called her Aster. I didn't like the name Mr. Clegg gave her."

"Mr Clegg?" said Shara, "Did you say Mr. Clegg?"

"Yes, that's where I bought her. Clegg Stud, down Mason's road."

"That's where Shelley and Elizabeth bought their ponies from too," said Shara.

"What's wrong with that? They're good ponies."

"I know," said Shara, "I was just interested that all the stolen ponies came from the same place."

"Oh," said Nikanda. She didn't think it was interesting at all.

Shara thanked her and hung up. She sat by the phone, looking at her notes for a while and feeling very tired. She had been awake all night. Her mother found her