“For Jim, I choose Azul, the Gray! You all know I love gray in color and I love the ‘blue,’ as his Spanish owners named him. Captain Lemuel, please saddle Azul for Jim Barlow, and, Daniel, will you use him, please, till Jim comes back?”
Dorothy flashed a grateful look upon her hostess, then glanced at Alfaretta, sure of finding sympathy in that girl’s honest eyes. But Alfy nodded, well pleased, and Mr. Ford rode to the head of the little cavalcade and took his place at Dorothy’s side, while the others followed, two by two, to make a circuit of the grounds and test their mounts.
The men cheered again and again as the procession started, Mr. Ford and Dorothy leading; then Leslie on the sorrel, Cæsar, with Alfy on Blanca; Helena on Benito, with Monty on the chestnut, Juan—a mount well suited to his stature and requirements. Last rode Molly on Juana, another chestnut, and a perfect match for her brother—Monty’s Juan; while Herbert’s Blackamoor finished the caravan, last but by no means least in the creature’s own proud estimation.
They paced and they cantered, they trotted and they galloped, even the most inexperienced without fear, because of the vigilant attendants who raced beside them, as well as the high spirits of the others. Around and around the spacious grounds they rode, Captain Lem pointing out several fences and hedges he would have them leap, later on, and finally bringing up before the stately front of the house to dismount.
As they did so Dorothy noticed a queerly dressed little boy sitting beside the fountain holding a basket in his hand and eagerly watching the cavalcade. Nobody else seemed to observe him, amid all the clatter and laughter. He looked to the sympathetic girl as if he were very tired and, leaving the rest, she crossed to him and asked:
“Who are you, little boy? Do you want something?”
Instantly, he offered her the basket, and as instantly vanished.