"Have the pair, mister," said the man. "They're wonderful together—draw a pantechnicon. There's lots of white on them, too. Your little boy here has taken such a fancy to them," he added. "Eighteen pound for the two."
Another man, who brought a black horse and said that white horses always had a defect somewhere, fastened on Miss Bingham.
"This is what you want, mum," he said. "Honest black. Never trust a white horse," he said. "Black's the colour. Look at this mare here—she's a beauty. Strong as an elephant and docile as a tortoise. Fifteen quid, mum, and a bargain."
"My good man," said Miss Bingham, "you are laboring under a misapprehension. I require no horse."
Fortunately, among the letters were several that told of exactly the kind of horse that was needed, and one afternoon a stable boy led into the yard a perfectly enormous creature which Mr. Lenox had hired for a pound a week from a man at Finchley.
"Warranted sound in wind and limb," said Mr. Lenox, "and his name is Moses."
Gregory, having given Moses a lump of sugar, declined ever again to wish for a motor caravan, especially as Mr. Scott slipped into his hand that evening a large knife containing eight useful articles, including a hook for extracting stones from horses' feet.