Boy Woodburn Part 64

"Who's that?" nonchalantly.

Joses bowed and smirked and became very gallant.

Flattery never moved the girl to anything but resentment.

"Thank you," she said.

"Pity you can't," pursued the other.

"Yes," she said. "I should have liked the ride."

His roaming eye settled on her.

"You'd have won, too," he said with a.s.surance.

"Think so?"

"I'm sure so," he answered. "You've only One against you."

"Perhaps," she admitted. "But the One's a caution."

"A good big un'll always beat a good little un," said the fat man.

"Besides, he's a baby," replied the girl. "Chances his fences too much."

"Sprawls a bit," admitted the other. "But he jumps so big it doesn't make much odds. And he gets away like a deer."

Joses was now very much alert; and he had to be. For, as he reported to Jaggers, Putnam's gave away as little as a dead man in the dark.

One thing, however, became clear as the time slipped away and the National drew ever nearer: that to the girl had been entrusted the winding up of the young horse, and Albert was her henchman in the matter.

Monkey was the fat man's informant on the point. Joses would never have believed the little jockey for a moment, but that his own eyes daily confirmed the report.

The window of his room looked out over the Paddock Close, and every morning, before the world was astir, while the dew was still heavy on the gra.s.s, the earth reeking, and the mists thick in the coombes, the great sheeted horse, who marched like a Highland regiment and looked like a mountain ram, was to be seen swinging up the hill on to the Downs.

There were two little figures always with him: one riding, one trotting at his side. Seen across the Close at that hour in the morning, there was no distinguis.h.i.+ng between the two. Both were slight, bare-headed, fair; and both were dressed much alike. So much might be seen, and little more at that distance.

One morning, therefore, found Joses established on the hill before the horse and his two attendants had arrived.

He had no desire to be seen.

He squirmed his way with many pants through the gorse to the edge of the gallop, adjusted his gla.s.ses, and watched the little group of three ascend the brow half a mile away.

One of the two attendant sprites slung the other up on to the back of the phantom horse tossing against the sky.

Then without a thought of fuss the phantom settled to his stride and came down the slope, b.u.t.ting the mists away from his giant chest, the rhythmical beat of his hoofs rising to a terrifying roar as he gathered way.

Joses dropped on to his hands and huddled against the soaking ground as the pair came thundering by. He need not have feared detection: the rider's head was low over the horse's neck, the rider's face averted.

All he saw was the back of a fair head, close-cropped.

Kneeling up, he turned his gla.s.ses once again on the little figure waiting now alone upon the brow.

As he stared, he heard the quiet footfall of a horse climbing the hill behind him.

He dropped his gla.s.ses and looked round.

Silver on Heart of Oak had come to a halt close by and was looking at him.

"Early bird," said the young man. "Looking for worms, I suppose."

Joses grinned as he closed his gla.s.ses, and rising to his feet brushed his sopping knees.

"Yes," he said. "And finding 'em."

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII

Ikey's Own

Maudie was not the only one who had cause to complain that life at Putnam's was changed now greatly for the worse.

It all centred round that great, calm, munching creature in the loose-box, with the big blue dog curled underneath the manger.

Monkey Brand was moody; Old Mat irritable; his daughter curt; Silver puzzled, and Mrs. Woodburn perturbed.

For once in her life that habitually tranquil lady was restless, and betrayed her trouble.

The young man marked it and was genuinely sorry for her.

She saw it and appealed to him.

"Mr. Silver," she said, taking him suddenly, "is she going to ride?"

The other met her with clearly honest eyes.

"I don't know," he said.

The old lady's distress was obvious.

"Mr. Silver," she said, "please tell me. Do _you_ want her to ride?"

"No!" he cried, almost with indignation. "Of course I don't. I've seen too many Nationals."

"Have you asked her not to?"