It was Jack who led the way to where the horse stalls were located. Here, in a box stall, stood a small, wiry, sorrel horse with a white blaze on his forehead. The horse gave a look of recognition as Jack approached and stretched out his head in expectation of some tidbit, and Jack handed him half an apple which he munched contentedly.
“He certainly is a fine-looking animal,” was Randy’s comment, as the four boys gazed at Carrots. “You certainly ought to win that race, Jack.”
“Well, I’m going to try, anyway,” was the answer.
“Jack has got to win that race,” put in Andy. “If he doesn’t he won’t dare face Ruth again,” and he winked one eye suggestively.
“Oh, say, Andy, you leave Ruth out of this race, will you?” burst out Jack, his face growing red.
“Humph! As if we didn’t all know that Joe Sedley is going to race you solely on Ruth’s account,” went on Andy, who was the tease of the crowd.
“He’s going to race me because he thinks his Black Diamond is a better horse than Carrots,” returned Jack, “and because he thinks he can ride better than I can!”
“Just the same, Jack, he’s got his eyes on Ruth,” broke in Randy. “I guess he thinks it would be a grand thing to link the Sedley estate to the new Stevenson estate.”
“Oh, you fellows are talking nonsense!” answered their cousin, but at the same time Jack’s face took on a look of concern.