All the horse family knows the importance of food. This was sad news that a healthy growing boy should refuse to eat.
"What do you want me to do?" asked Attaboy shortly. "You've got some plan in your head. I feel that."
"When that lad comes up here to-night and saddles you," I said, "I want you to pretend to go lame."
"What for?" he asked in astonishment.
"So that he may take me. I'll be hanging round—he knows I'm a racer. He'll slip on my back and away we'll go."
"And then?" asked Attaboy angrily.
"I have a plan for bringing him home."
"And pray," asked Attaboy relapsing into his former cold manner, "why are you taking all this trouble for a boy that isn't your master?"
"Oh! Can't you see," I said earnestly, "at root it is for my dear master. Your boy is jealous of mine. If your boy disappears, my boy may be blamed. To tell the truth, one finger of my master's is dearer to me than the whole body of your queer-acting young master. I'm working for him—the boy that owns me. He's all the world to me. I don't want you all to die, but if I had to choose between him and you, I'd have to sorrowfully see all Devering Farm slip into Fawn Lake!"