“Jack what?” demanded Emory, pausing with his pencil in his hand. “I must know how to write the check, if the fellow isn’t killed.”
“Jack Lacy,” replied the blacksmith. “Shall he try the stallion to-day, sir?”
“Yes, yes, of course; right away!” exclaimed Emory. “This is Thursday, and we’ve only till Monday to get him used to the lad. Bring out the rascal,” he added, turning to his groom, who was close at hand.
Quite a little crowd of jockeys and retainers had collected and stood by to watch the trial of a new hand on this wonderful horse. There was perfect silence. How would he succeed?
The lad still chunked the chickens. The stable door flew open, and the horse came out, trotting and snorting a little and holding up his beautiful head to sniff the morning air. He was a rich chestnut sorrel, rather over-sized; limbs long and supple as a deer’s, throat slightly arched, a mane as wavy and bronzed as Gwendoline’s hair. His blanket removed, after walking him a little the saddle was put on, all quietly enough.
“Jack,” said Peleg, “come here.”
The boy rubbed his soiled hands over his face, and, sticking them into his pockets, walked slowly up. He wore a suit of common clothes and a battered hat. His hair was black, curling close to his head, and his face very dirty. The blacksmith went up and whispered something to him. The boy looked at Emory from under his hat and nodded.
“He wants a little cash,” said Peleg. “He hasn’t any jockey clothes.”
“All right,” replied Neil, “but I’ve only a five dollar gold-piece with me; will he take that?”
So saying, he tossed the coin towards the boy, who caught it in his hand, put it between his white teeth and then, with a low chuckle, slipped it into his pocket. The horse was now ready. The lad came alongside of him, took the reins in his right hand, and, putting his left under the animal’s mane, began to pass it slowly towards his ears. As he did so, the horse lowered his head and gave a quivering neigh. The boy’s hand went softly around his forehead, then crept down his nose and rested for a moment over his nostrils, as he brought his mouth close to his ear as if breathing therein, and again the horse neighed. Then, putting his foot in the stirrup, the lad swung himself into the saddle, and, gathering up the reins, walked the racer off.