“Exercise her to-morrow under the saddle, and Sunday afternoon we will give Miss Alice her first ride on her—she's to be a present for her on her birth-day, you know—eh?”
Jim bowed and started out.
“You may fix my bath now—think I'll retire. O Jim!” he called, “see that Antar, the stallion, is securely stalled. You know how dangerous he is.”
He was just dozing off when the front door closed with a bang.
Then a metal whip handle thumped heavily on the floor and the jingling of a spur rattled over the hall floor, as Harry Travis boisterously went down the hall, singing tipsily,
“Oh, Johnny, my dear,
Just think of your head,
Just think of your head
In the morning.”
Another door banged so loudly it awakened even the setter. The old dog came to the side of the bed and laid his head affectionately in Travis' palm. The master of The Gaffs stroked his head, saying: “It is strange that I love this old dog so.”