“My back isn’t quite right yet from the fall he gave me. Once bit, twice shy. He took a piece out of my sleeve another time, and meant it to be flesh. Here, you keep that brute back.”
This to the two syces, who were both now hanging on to the Arab’s reins, the fierce animal having made a sudden dash to get at the two chargers being brought up.
The Arab was checked in time, and its attention diverted while the two officers mounted.
“Look here, Wyatt,” said the captain, “let’s give the brute a chance. I hate him to go out of the corps.”
“Let me try him,” said Dick eagerly.
“You?” cried the captain, turning upon him in wonder. Then, with a mocking smile, which made the lad wince, “You don’t know what you are talking about, Darrell, my lad.—Here, Wyatt, ride across and ask for a volunteer. The men know what he is as well as we do.”
Wyatt nodded, and rode across to the drawn-up troop, Dick, with every nerve on the quiver, watching him anxiously in the hope that every man would refuse; but, to his disgust, a man responded to the invitation, received the order to rein back, and came round to the front, riding towards the two syces behind the lieutenant, dismounted, handed his reins to Captain Hulton’s groom, and stood waiting.
“Think you can ride him?” said Hulton.
“Oh, yes, I can ride him, sir. Captain Morrison always could.”
“Mind, I do not order you to mount. You volunteer.”