"It's silly," grunted the trainer. "'Course she wants to be on the course. It's only in Natur. It's her hoss, and her race. She ain't goin' to run no risks. And I don't blame her neether. There's only one way o' seein' a thing through as I've ever know'd, and that's seein' it through yourself."
Mrs. Woodburn's good-bye to her daughter was cold as it was wistful.
At the garden-gate Boy turned and waved.
"Cheer, mum!" she cried.
Her mother, standing austerely on the steps of the house, did not respond.
"I shall be back on Saturday," called the girl as she climbed into the buggy.
That was on the Monday.
On that day Boy and Albert and Billy Bluff took the young horse north, travelling all the way in his box.