Boy Woodburn Part 55

"Steady him," she said quietly. "Get up alongside him, Jerry. Now try and get him off the mark with me. All together. Now!"

The manoeuvre failed. Lollypop and Silvertail got well away, but the young horse merely pawed the air.

Monkey Brand's face was set.

"Give me that whip, Albert," he said between his teeth.

"No," said the girl. "That's no good."

Old Mat held up his hand.

"He ain't for it," he said masterfully. "Get off him, Brand."

The little jockey glanced at his master, saw he meant business, and slipped off the great horse, chagrin in every line of his face.

Albert, unbidden, had already gathered the reins in his hand and was preparing to mount.

"No," said Boy authoritatively. "Albert, take Silvertail."

She slipped off the tall old mare.

Her father nodded approval.

"She's right," he muttered. "Never do to try Albert when Brand has failed."

"Chuck me up, Brand," said the girl.

The little jockey turned.

"Yes, Miss."

The girl had broken the blow for him, and he tossed her into the saddle with a will.

She sat up there on the great horse, ordering her reins with masterful delicacy.

Jim Silver's eyes dwelt tenderly upon her face. He longed to dismount and kiss the girl's hand. But all he said in matter-of-fact voice was:

"You've got a lot in front of you."

"It's like a glacier," replied Boy.

"She could slide on that shoulder," commented Old Mat. "Like Napoleon on the Pyramids."

The young horse began to sidle and plunge.

"Right!" said Boy. "Stand clear!"

The little jockey jumped aside, and mounted Silvertail.

Four-Pound-the-Second gave a great bound. The girl rode him as a yacht rides the sea, swinging easily to his motion, and talking to him the while. He sprawled around with tiny bucks and little grunts of joy, br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with energy.

Then, as if by magic, he steadied down and began to walk round with that tremendous swing of his, blowing his nose, and playing with his bit.

David had swept his hand across his harp and the dark spirit had been charmed away.

Old Mat nodded and said to himself: "Where it is, is there it is."

n.o.body else spoke.

Boy, in her white shirt, her hair radiant against the dull heavens, began to feel at her horse's mouth.

Monkey Brand and Jerry watched her closely.

"Keep walking in front of me," called the girl sharply. "And move with me."

Both obeyed, eyeing the girl over their shoulders, and slowly gathering way.

Then she spoke to her horse; and he stole away, easy and quiet as a tide, Boy leaning forward, the two pacing horses, one on either side, leading him by half a length.

"Yes," commented Old Mat, as he slung his gla.s.ses round and adjusted them. "You'd think a little child could ride him be the look of it."

The three rose at the first fence all together, the white shirt sandwiched between the dark jackets.

Jim Silver felt a thrill at his heart. That thunder of hoofs moved him to his deeps.

"Gallops very wide behind," he remarked casually.

"That's Berserk, that is," muttered the old man, adjusting his gla.s.ses.

"Chucks the mud about a treat, don't he?"

Billy Bluff was straining on his lead, whimpering to be after his big friend, while Albert leaned back against the wind, holding him.

The horses had settled to their gallop, their steady, rhythmical stride only varied as they rose at their fences, spread themselves, slid earthward and went away again with a steady roar of hoofs.

The three kept well together till they swung for home, then the white shirt began to bob up against the sky a second before the dark bodies of the other two showed.

"Tailin' 'em off," muttered Old Mat. "Ain't 'alf tuckin' into it, Four-Pound ain't."

Then Lollypop began to lag, and Jerry's arm was going.

"Stopped him dead," said Silver.

"And he's a good little two-mile hoss, too," replied Old Mat.

Another moment and the white shirt came over the last fence, the brown horse soaring like some great eagle.

Silvertail, clinging gamely to her leader, brushed through the fence and pecked heavily on landing.

Monkey punished her savagely.