“Of course it does. I say, it isn’t the colt, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Our colt gone mad, and galloping about all night so as to make himself look bad to-morrow morning.”
“Rubbish!”
“But it does come from the paddock.”
“Yes; it does come from the paddock,” said Norman, after a pause.
“And no mistake about it. Only one horse too.”
“It’s very strange,” said Norman; “let’s go and see.”
“What, in the middle of the night, like this? Father would hear us and take us for black fellows.”
“We could drop quietly out of the window. Why, Rifle, you’re right; there is a horse galloping in the paddock. Let’s dress and go.”