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horse-drawn carriage passed. In the back were a young man and woman holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. Stevie thought of Phil, her boyfriend. If he had been here, they’d have been having a good time. She sighed. She had been doing okay until her class entered the park, but now she could feel her goodness wearing thin.
    The New-York Historical Society was an austere marble building on Central Park West. The class trooped up the outside marble steps. Inside were more marble steps.
The guy who designed this building was certainly into steps
, Stevie thought.
    Mrs. Martin clapped her hands, a signal that the group should draw around her in a ring. “Today I want you to find objects that go with your special object,” she said. “You can buy postcards in the store on the main floor. You have two hours. Everyone will meet in the lobby at four.”
    Stevie trudged up more marble stairs. When she got to the top floor, she looked around.
    “There are so many wonderful things here,” Ms. Dodge said. “I know you’ll find a perfect object.” She gave Stevie an encouraging smile.
    Stevie walked into the first room. It had chairs, silver teapots, and cups and saucers. “You could die of excitement,” she muttered to herself. She caught Ms. Dodge looking at her and smiled. “Great stuff,” she said. “Those cups and saucers are something else.”
    Stevie walked into another room.
Hey, more chairs.
Over a chest of drawers was an oil painting of a horse. Stevie stepped closer to look at it. The horse was running, but in a very odd way. Both front legs were straight out, and both hind legs were straight back. A horse that ran like that would fall flat on its stomach.
    But so what? The horse was running. (Or floating, to be more accurate.) His nose was up, his tail was out. Stevie could hear the thunder of hoofbeats. She could feel the wind in her hair. Suddenly she wanted to ride the carousel again.
    Stevie looked at Ms. Dodge, who was gazing at a teapot with an expression of rapture. Then she looked at the door. It would be so easy to disappear. It wouldn’t be good, but it would be easy. She looked at Ms. Dodge again. She had moved on to a coffeepot.
    Stevie slipped out the door. Softly she ran down the marble steps. On the main floor she paused. She shouldn’t do this, she knew. She should stay in the museum. She should find an object. On the other hand, outside the air was fresh, the crows were flying, and Ralph was waiting for a nice chat.
    Stevie stepped out the door.
    “T ODAY ’ S OUR LUCKY day,” Lisa said miserably.
    “Not,” Carole said gloomily.
    They were in the tack room at the stable. They’d gotten there early in case there was anything Max wanted them to do before Veronica gave her lecture on bridle care.
    Veronica walked in from the barn. There was a white paper bag in her pocket.
    “Hey, you’re early,” Lisa said. She had never known Veronica to be early for anything.
    “Have you got a problem with that?” Veronica said snootily. She looked Carole and Lisa up and down. “Why don’t you find Max?” she said. “He may want you for something.”
    Lisa and Carole didn’t like being bossed by Veronica. On the other hand, looking for Max had the distinct advantage of getting them away from Veronica. They walked into the barn to find him.
    Max was mucking out a stall.
    “Is there anything we can do?” Carole said.
    “You’ve already done a lot,” Max said. “You were great yesterday.”
    “Anything for Pine Hollow,” Carole said with a grin.
    “I appreciate it,” Max said. He raked the stall so that the earth was higher in the center than it was at the sides. “I hope everything goes more smoothly today,” he said. He hung the rake on a hook, and the three of them went off to join Veronica.
    When they entered the tack room, Veronica was bent over the container of cleaning supplies. Lisa and Carole exchanged surprised looks. Was Veronica actually trying to learn about