The young horse had found the excuse he sought, swung away from his leader, and began to buck round in a circle, propping and plunging.
"Put the dog on the lead, Albert," ordered the girl, trotting back.
She and Jerry tried again, cantering past the rebel, calling and coaxing.
Four-Pound-the-Second went marching round in a circle, champing at his bit, thrashing with his tail, and every now and then flinging a make-believe buck, as much as to say:
"I could throw you if I would, but I won't, because I like you too much."
Monkey Brand, wise and patient, humoured him.
"Let him take his time," called Boy. "Steady, lad, steady!"
Old Mat watched grimly.
"I thought as much," he muttered. "He ain't 'alf a little rogue. 'Tain't temper, eether. He's the temper of a h'angel and the constitootion of a h'ox. It's that he just won't. For all the world like a great spoilt boy. He's mischeevous. He wants to give trouble because that amooses him. I've known him sulk in his gallop afore now because Billy Bluff wasn't up here to watch him. Where it is to-day he wants her to ride him. He don't care about nobody else when she's about."
Boy had ridden back to the young horse.