But Braeburn wasn't at breakfast the next morning. And he wasn't among the Apple family who headed out to the orchards afterwards. Aunt Clementine shrugged off the question when Applejack asked her about it.
"Oh, little Brae is never around when you need him. You'd almost think he didn't want to be part of the family. Now have some more quiche, Jackie dear."
Four courses later, Applejack finally excused herself and bolted for the kitchen. Pinkie was there, taking bites out of food as weary-eyed servants took them from the oven. They seemed resigned to the pink pony's predations on their precious pastries.
"Ready to go?" Applejack asked.
Pinkie gave a vigorous nod with her cheeks bulging, and took a final bite of a pie before reconsidering and gulping the shoveling thing down. The flighty-looking maidpony holding the tin gave a small squeak and fled.
The two of them, Applejack with her saddlebag and Pinkie still licking crumbs from her face, walked toward town.
"Well, Braeburn's vanished. Maybe we'll find him in town."
Pinkie wiped away the last crumb, and raised one eyebrow.
"Or maaaaaaaybe," and her voice went ominous, "He's plotting the most dastardly designs for the destruction of decency everywhere in Equestria!"
She gasped for breath. Applejack rolled her eyes.
"No such worry, Pinkie. Braeburn is not a spy. We'll find him and prove it."
But Braeburn was nowhere to be seen in town. Up and down they searched, peeking into barbershops and past swinging saloon doors. He wasn't in the general store, or in the schoolhouse. He wasn't on Main Street, or any sidestreet, backstreet, or alleyway. More than once, Applejack had to beg the pardon of a pony who she tripped over peeking down back alleyways. Once, a sleepy-eyed buffalo leapt up and growled at them when Applejack called Braeburn's name. But no matter how often they looked and called, he simply wasn't there.
Finally, they were scouring Main Street for a third time, jostling with ponies and weaving in between crowds. Pinkie turned to Applejack.
"Weeeeeell, he might not be a changeling, but are we sure he's not a ghost?"
Applejack ignored her and stood on a barrel for a better view. She looked around, and a glint of light caught her eye.
"Of course!"
She leapt down and scampered off. Pinkie barely kept pace as they dodged around carriages and past offended-looking gentleponies.
"What's up?"
They emerged on the far side of the street, and Applejack pointed with one hoof.
A silver six-pointed star hung on a façade, with stenciled letters reading "Sherriff". Applejack cantered up to the door.
"Sherriff Silverstar! He'll be able to help us, for sure."
Applejack went to open the door when a brash young colt bolted out, spinning her around and nearly knocking her over before bolting away. Head spinning, she carefully opened the door.
The office was a maelstrom of activity. Ponies were leaping every direction, carrying papers, boxes, or trays of sandwiches and coffee. Everypony seemed to be talking—yelling, really—and moving around at the same time. The room was dusty and cramped compared to the immaculately cleaned stores they'd looked into. The windows were shaded, and several raw wooden desks were crammed into the corners. All were cluttered with papers and miscellaneous paperweights, cups, half-eaten sandwiches, and an immeasurable ocean of pencil shavings.
Applejack leapt into the fray, trying to make her way around deputies and secretaries, dodging mugs of scalding coffee and upended sandwiches. Finally, she found the back office.
Three ponies were all talking to Silverstar at once. He was standing behind a shabby-looking, cluttered desk, and his moustache was twitching ever so slightly.
It became quickly obvious that with three ponies talking at once, no one would say anything properly. They kept repeating themselves and tripping over each other's' words, and generally getting nowhere. Finally, Silverstar put his hoof down.
"Gosh darnit, you three, that's enough!" They shut up.
"Now Red, get a deputy down to the saloon and check out the damage. Haversack, see if Professor Laudanum won't reconsider his complaint. And Maverick: get over to West street and get Miss Gentile's cat down her tree. Again. Move your mangy manes!"
Jumping, the three scampered from the office and left Silverstar to sigh, put his head down on his desk and close his eyes. Applejack started to knock as gently as she could on the doorframe, but Pinky bolted past and screamed right in his ear.
"SHERRIF SILVERSTAR!"
Slowly, one of his eyelids opened up. The one eye squinted into the bright pink face thrust into his own. It closed, and the sheriff let out another long, weary sigh.
"Pinkie Pie. Just my luck."
He hauled his head up and extended a hoof. Pinkie seized it with her usual enthusiasm and shook the sheriff up and down. Applejack hurried in and put a hoof on her shoulder.
"I think you've said hello to the poor fellow, Pinkie. Good to see you again, Sheriff Silverstar."
Silverstar nodded to her gratefully as Pinkie grudgingly released his hoof.
"Applejack. A pleasure. What brings you to Appleoosa?"
"Well, that's a mite tricky question, Sheriff. Right now, we're looking for Braeburn. Don't suppose you've seen him?"
Silverstar blinked.
"Braeburn? He not in the fields?"
"He's not ANYWHERE!" Pinkie burst out, "It's almost like he's…a GHOST!"
"Not that again, Pinkie," Applejack said, "We're sorry to bother you, Sheriff. We just need to ask my cuz' something important. Looks like yer busy, though."
Silverstar scowled.
"Busy don't cover it. Town's ten times as big, but do they give me a bigger office? No ma'am."
As if to underscore his point, a frizzy-maned yellow mare burst in and threw a bulging envelope onto his desk. Without a word to anypony, she turned and rushed out of sight.
Silverstar sighed and opened the folder. His moustache drooped. Pinkie thrust her head in front of his and rolled her eyes down the page.
"Ooooooh, a robbery! How mysteeeeeerious!"
Silverstar waved her away with a scowl.
"No such thing. Some fool buffalo ate too many pies and "stampeded" a china shop. Then somepony carried off whatever wasn't broken. Never gonna find those."
He tossed the first file into a bulging wastebasket and peeked at the next one. But Pinky was there first.
"Aha! Disappearing pies! How siiiiinister."
Silverstar scowled at her again, but tossed the file without a glance. It hit the crammed wastebasket and slid onto the floor, followed by a small landslide of others. Silverstar ignored it.
"Er…sheriff?" Applejack said.
He didn't look up.
"Somethin' else you need, little Apple?"
Applejack ignored the 'little'.
"Actually, I was wondering the opposite. Looks like Appleoosa's got a right mountain of troubles. Anything we can do?"
Silverstar paused and gave her a hard look. But his moustache curled up a bit.
"Well I'll be. You are Braeburn's cousin after all. Darn fool is always bitin' off more than he can chew. You serious?"
Pinkie beat Applejack to the punch.
"You betcha', Mr. Sheriff Silverstar sir! You can count on us!"
He huffed, but Applejack thought he detected a smile.
"Well, alright then. Consider yourselves deputized. I think I got just the job for you."
"Say the word chief!" Pinkie stood up ramrod straight and saluted.
"Well, you remember how you helped us out with the buffalo last year? Well, things aint been much better. They stay away from the orchards, but there's a whole rut of 'em in town, makin' trouble. This china shop business…" he fished it from the pile at his feet, "…is just the latest. Now I aint got nowhere talkin' with Chief Thunderhooves. Maybe you can make him get his folks in line. He sure as heck don't listen to me."
He leaned down and pulled a huge folder from a drawer. He dropped it down and the desk shook.
Applejack's eyes bulged, and she grunted as she heaved it into her saddlebag.
"All these are problems with the buffalo? What's goin' on, Sheriff?"
"Braves causin' trouble, actin' up. Sometimes they get into gangs and ruckus around. Generally makin' a menace of themselves. Don't let nopony tell 'em what to do. And it's a pity because plenty of 'em work hard in the orchards during the day, and then cause trouble at night. We'd fire 'em, but they're strong workers, and we need 'em, with so many ponies to feed."
Applejack strapped her bag shut.
"How come no one's talked to the Chief before? Has this been goin' on for a while?"
Silverstar gave her a strange look, and sighed.
"I've…well, I've tried. Just…just go. You'll see. Chief Thunderhooves, he…well, things have changed, little missy. And be careful. It ain't pretty.