Thanking the sheriff for his assistance, Nick hastened away.
At dusk that night a carriage drove slowly along in front of the road house.
A few yards from the front of the house a young boy in a jockey uniform was standing.
“Here you are, boy,” called a voice from the carriage. “Jump in quick.”
The boy sprang nimbly into the vehicle.
As he took his seat he glanced hastily at the only other occupant, and started back in alarm.
“You’re looking for the dude who saved you a thrashing this morning?”
“Yes, sir. Did he send you?”
“Yes,” said Nick, nodding to the driver to proceed. “Are you employed at the stable where Denver Bay is kept?”
“Yes, sir.”