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datatime: 2022-10-07 00:02:27 Author:qQHXMDZD

'The last one quit several months ago. Since then Kenny has been doing most of the work himself. It's not like he can hire just anyone. He has to be careful.'

'And he has no stable hand?' I asked.

'It's a foal, I guess. Black,' I went on.

'What about a star-strip-snip?' she asked, referring to the white stripe on the horse's forehead.

Sparkes picked up speed and thundered toward us, and the guinea hens lifted up their feathery skirts to hurry out of the way.

'No,' Foster said.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

'I'd like to know more about the stable hand,' Marino said, taking notes.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

'I'd like to know more about the stable hand,' Marino said, taking notes.

She didn't comment at first, and we drew nearer to a big red barn and a Beware of Dog sign on a fence post.

Marino was not particularly interested in the surviving horse, and as we entered the indoor ring, we were greeted by the sound of hooves and the clucking of bantam roosters and guinea hens that wandered about freely. Marino coughed and squinted because red dust was thick in the air, kicked up by the cantering of a chestnut Morgan mare. Horses in their stalls neighed and whinnied as horse and rider went by, and although I recognized Kenneth Sparkes in his English saddle, I had never seen him in dirty denim and boots. He was an excellent equestrian, and when he met my eyes as he went by, .he showed no sign of recognition or relief. I knew right then he did not want us here.

'If he is, I doubt he will be for long. The police know about him.'

We picked plastic chairs and sat with our backs to the arena, overlooking woods.

Marino was not particularly interested in the surviving horse, and as we entered the indoor ring, we were greeted by the sound of hooves and the clucking of bantam roosters and guinea hens that wandered about freely. Marino coughed and squinted because red dust was thick in the air, kicked up by the cantering of a chestnut Morgan mare. Horses in their stalls neighed and whinnied as horse and rider went by, and although I recognized Kenneth Sparkes in his English saddle, I had never seen him in dirty denim and boots. He was an excellent equestrian, and when he met my eyes as he went by, .he showed no sign of recognition or relief. I knew right then he did not want us here.

'I'd like to know more about the stable hand,' Marino said, taking notes.

She didn't comment at first, and we drew nearer to a big red barn and a Beware of Dog sign on a fence post.

'He would bring his horses to you?' I asked.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

'What about a star-strip-snip?' she asked, referring to the white stripe on the horse's forehead.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

Sparkes picked up speed and thundered toward us, and the guinea hens lifted up their feathery skirts to hurry out of the way.

'I wasn't that close,' I told her.

'If he is, I doubt he will be for long. The police know about him.'

'It's a foal, I guess. Black,' I went on.

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