The ostler, leaving Dick with his detached horses, hurried bandily to shift a farmer's gig, drawn up and abandoned in front of the porch.
Dick caught one glimpse of the car's driver, and took his wheelers by their bridles.
"Hey, lass!" he said. "Move tha legs a bit, now, an' lead Tod into staable."
By his tone she knew something evil was near, and obeyed with never a look round, but disappeared with Tod into the stable-yard, Dick following with his pair.
They found empty stalls, unbridled and haltered the horses without a word, and, just as Dick had found the few he must say to her, there was the ostler in the doorway.
"You be more helpin' like," he said, "'n owd Ned Blossom. I thank 'ee kind, I do—and you, miss."
"Ah'll thank 'ee, owd hoss, to pass no word agen Ned Blossom. My friend 'e be."
Then, to the vast surprise of Bandy-legs, Dick pushed a half-crown into his hand, and added, pleasantly as you please:
"Give nags feed an' rub down. And, when Ned comes rolling along to trot 'em home, tell 'im Sam Bunce won't forget Town Moor and Challacombe's Leger."
Crossing the stable-yard with Amaryllis, "Don't walk like that—bit more flat-footed, but don't clown it," said Dick. "And don't turn your face towards the door of the inn—mind. Know why I made you lead Tod?"