“Other one, sir?” said Tripp. “Wot other?”
“The other American horse that came with him,” said Mr. Carteret.
“This one only come ’alf an hour ago,” said Tripp. “’E’s Major Hammerslea’s ’oss. ’E bought ’im last week at Tattersalls.”
“You must be mistaken, Tripp,” said Barclay; “this is one of the horses that we had sent out to Mr. Cecil.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” said Tripp; “this is not one of the ’osses sent out to Mr. Cecil; this is Major Hammerslea’s ’oss. The hanimals that arrived from America are in the lower stables.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Carteret; and they passed on in the direction indicated by Tripp. “There is no use wasting breath on that blockhead,” he said to Barclay.
In the court of the lower stables they came upon Lady Withers and the Major inspecting some two-year-olds.
“Good morning,” said Mr. Carteret. “I gathered from your note that you are dissatisfied with the horses. Would it be too much to tell me why?”
“It was my idea,” said Lady Withers coldly, “that Cecil should undertake the management of a horse agency, not a zoo.”