"He'll beat you, Prince," she said sleepily, "he always does," and she crept back to her place beside Guardie.
"Not to-night," I said as I stepped into the stable to see what Attaboy was doing.
To give the Hackney his due I must say that when he had made up his mind to be a pony gentleman, he was one.
As poor Big Chief flung the saddle over his back, Attaboy gave a groan and when the boy told him to follow him from the stable his limp was enough to make one's heart ache.
Big Chief was surprised and sorry, but in an absent-minded way. He stared at him, and then at me as I carelessly strolled near as if to say, "What is going on?"
Even in the midst of his trouble the lad took time to examine his pet hurriedly. Of course he found no cause for lameness and shaking his head he came back to me.
I stood right by the harness-room door. I knew how the boy's mind was working. I was swifter than any of the other ponies but I belonged to his cousin.
He hesitated an instant. Then an ugly look came in his eyes and he seized me by my foretop.
"All right, my boy," I thought. "You'll be paid back for this treachery to my young master. I want you to take me, but you've no business to want to take me. You're going to get the surprise of your young life pretty soon."
He saddled me and bridled me and led me swiftly over the soft grass till we got well outside the farm gates. Then he sprang on my back and away we went.