“You bet!” cried Merry. “He is an old dandy! I wouldn’t swap him for Liner now!”
“But he has not done such work this season. He is in his old-time trim, and I believe two-thirds of it comes from his rider.”
Diamond touched Frank’s arm, and drew him aside.
“Say, Frank,” he whispered, “do you know you came near getting a crack over the head?”
“Sure,” nodded our hero.
“Well, take my advice and look out for that Fenton. I saw him when he struck at you, and I know he would have struck just as quick if his mallet had been made of iron.”
“I’ll watch out for him, Jack.”
“Do it, and I’ll keep my eyes open myself.”
Lock had strained his side twisting in the saddle for a stroke, and a fellow by the name of Hawley was substituted. Kimball and Stone both rushed to the stable to change ponies, and Hawley called for another pony in the place of the one Lock had ridden. Of the Meadowfairs, Fenton was the only one who retained his mount.
Harden was the only Springbrook man who made a change. His pony had not acted satisfactorily, although it was considered a fairly good animal. But it is an old saying that “the more a man knows about polo ponies the less he knows about them,” and the paradox is an indisputable truth.