Now I knew quite well that he was jealous of me. He had got all the farm news from the other creatures since he came home, so I was not surprised when he turned his stylish head and showed me a cold eye.
The stable was as light as day. The sun had gone down but the electric lights were all on for Mr. Devering liked his animals to be cheerful.
My skin quivered as I felt that cold eye travelling up and down and across me.
At another time I might have yielded to this nervousness (for I hate any creature to dislike me) and run away. Now however there was too much at stake, and I tried to make myself feel as calm as an old pony for was I not working for my dear young master.
"I am not deaf," said Attaboy at last. "I can hear you from where you stand. You did well to speak. I should have kicked if you had come near me without warning."
"I am not as stupid as that," I said. "A horse's stall is his castle. No one should enter without speaking. Many a man gets kicked for that—from fright," I added hastily, as Attaboy glared at me. "Not through viciousness."
"Well!" he said curtly, "go on—what do you want?"
"Your young master is going to run away from home to-night."
"Really," he said sarcastically, "and you suppose I know nothing of it?"
I saw there was no use in fencing with this fellow. He was in an ugly mood, so I would play up to him.