“Ah!” he exclaimed presently, “Mr. Mason accepts my terms, and Thunderer is sold.”
“Oh, good! good!” cried Lulu, dancing up and down in delight. “Now, papa, I think he’ll never have a chance to throw you again.”
“No, I presume not,” said the captain. “And I suppose you are all well pleased that he is disposed of.”
“I certainly am,” said Violet.
“I too,” said Grace; “for O, papa, I should have been afraid for you every time you got on his back.”
Max had not spoken, and his father, looking at him with a humorous smile, asked, “And you, my boy? what have you to say about it?”
“I suppose I ought to be satisfied, papa,” returned the lad with some little hesitation, “but—”
“Well, out with it, my son,” laughed the captain; “you did not exactly want him sold, eh?”
“I—I believe I rather liked the idea of seeing you conquer him, papa,” answered Max, a trifle shamefacedly. “I wouldn’t have you hurt again for any thing, I’m sure,” he went on earnestly, “but I don’t believe he could throw you again; for you would be on your guard another time as you were not before, and you are a fine horseman, and I’m certain, almost, could conquer any horse that ever was made.”
At that his father laughed outright, but there was certainly no displeasure in his mirth.