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    “That’s Mr Pyke, the estate manager!” Rosie hissed. “Quick, let’s get out of here!”
    But Rosie confused Dancer as she tried to turn her in a tight circle between the trees. The stubborn mare planted herself with her nose in the air, refusing to budge another step. The others had already turned their ponies and were hastily making their way back to the lane, when Alice realised that Rosie wasn’t behind them. She pulled Scout up. Ahead of her, she saw Charlie and Mia do the same.
    “Rosie!” Alice squeaked. “Hurry up!”
    But it was too late. Mr Pyke had already stormed over the undergrowth toward Rosie and was standing by Dancer’s head, blocking her escape route. He was wearing a long green waxed coat, his red hair curled out from under his flatcap and his camouflage trousers mushroomed over the top of his green wellies. He blended in completely with his surroundings. His face was stony, and he had a double barrelled shotgun, cocked open, in the crook of his arm. Behind Mr Pyke stood his son, Archie, looking awkward.
    “This is private property!” Mr Pyke spluttered. “There’s to be no riding on this land at any time. Is that clear?”
    “Well, we always used to be able to ride all over this estate,” Rosie said, flushed and indignant. She was trying her best to look like she was standing there because she was seriously brave, rather than because Dancer wouldn’t budge.
    Mr Pyke looked furious. “That was then, this is now. Things have changed. Now shove off, all of you.”
    “Mr Pyke, where are you?” Another voice suddenly called over. The girls peered through the trees, and saw a man they recognised from the Abbey open day. It was Nick Webb. He was standing, almost hidden, at the edge of the woods. His expression changed as he noticedthe girls and their ponies. A deep frown etched itself on his forehead, between his eyes.
    “I’m over here,” Mr Pyke shouted back clearly, not breaking Rosie’s gaze while he spoke. Alice was transfixed by Mr Pyke’s left hand, which was resting on his gun. Mrs Maplethorp’s words echoed in her head.
    “Well, you’re needed up by the Monastery Woods. There’s been another… incident ,” Nick Webb sounded like he was choosing his words carefully.
    Mr Pyke glanced towards Nick, his eyes glinting. “On my way,” he replied. But before he left, he briefly turned his attention back to the girls, speaking gruffly and staring at each of them in turn. “Do yourselves a favour – keep off this estate if you know what’s good for you. And you can tell all your horsey friends the same, got it?”
    With that, Mr Pyke turned on his heel, and half walked, half jogged towards Nick.
    “Come on,” Mia said shakily, “let’s get out of here.”
    By the time Rosie finally got Dancer going,Mr Pyke and Nick had almost disappeared from view. She was about to trot after her friends when she noticed Archie. He had hung behind, and was now standing stiffly against a broad tree. Archie had his own pony, a small grey native called Rascal, and the girls occasionally talked to him about riding, on the school bus. Rosie could tell that he wanted to say something. He turned to look into the woods, hesitating until his dad was out of earshot.
    “Um, sorry about Dad,” Archie said, nervously. “He…he’s not normally that grumpy.”
    “Grumpy?” Rosie frowned. “Stark raving mad, more like.”
    At that moment, Mr Pyke’s voice boomed out again. “Archie!”
    “I’ve got to go,” Archie said, looking panicked and lowering his voice. “But you really can ’t ride in here, it’s not safe.” Then he turned and raced after his dad.
    Rosie watched the figure retreat through the trees, feeling a tingle of fear. “Not safe?” she called after him. “Because of your dad, you mean?”
    But Archie didn’t stop. Rosie sighed, thenrode out to the others, and told them about Archie’s strange warning.
    “I get the feeling there’s something odd going on