"Dakota has made a place for your team in the stables," Cockney said casually. "He's afraid to let strange horses loose in the corrals at night: they might hurt themselves."
"That's thoughtful of Dakota," replied the Professor. "I don't know what Inspector Barker would say—he lent them to me, you know, as the safest in Medicine Hat—because it must be stifling some nights in the stables. If I relieved Dakota of all personal responsibility I suppose he'd let them run loose in the corrals? Gee-Gee seems to have a temperament that requires airing."
"The stables are not stifling," said Cockney shortly. "Besides, Dakota looks after that part of the ranch; I don't interfere."
Stamford took it outside and thought it over.
"I'd almost forgotten my daily ride," he said, entering the sitting-room a few minutes later. "I have a premonition that should Hobbles lose track of me for a day she'll forget my weaknesses. Will you come and see I get fair-play, Miss Bulkeley?"
"Hobbles is in the stable, too," said Cockney, "also Miss Bulkeley's horse. The key's hanging inside my bedroom door. Help yourself."
Bean Slade suggested that he, as teacher, accompany the two, but Stamford waved him away with mock rudeness.
"You make me blush, Bean. I'm taking Miss Bulkeley for an evening ride—showing her the sights. One of them may be when Hobbles decides to trot, but I must chance that. I usually last only three trots. Hobbles has the habit now of stopping at the third to let me remount."
He bumped away, the perfect seat of his companion giving his inexperience the laugh.
"I don't see how you do it, Miss Bulkeley, but if I could ride like that I'd be a Mounted Policeman—if they'd take me in. Too bad to waste it in Washington. If everyone in your city rides like you——"