For one of us this really seemed too bad to be true. That was one of the arguments in Dave’s favor with which I had tried Cyrus’ patience.
“He isn’t exactly one of us, you know,” Cy had answered. “I always thought it likely that the alien blood would show itself. And I was afraid of the liking that he had for horses even as a youngster. I never approved of his breaking-in of Uncle Horace’s colts bare-back.”
“He thought no more of the horses than Rob did,” I retorted. “For my part I like to see a boy fond of animals. It means healthy human nature and a kind heart.”
Cyrus shook his head doubtfully. “There are different ways of being fond of animals,” he said. “I always knew that Dave’s way was, more than Rob’s, the way of the sport-loving man. He had the pedigrees of all Uncle Horace’s horses at his tongue’s end, before he knew the multiplication table, while Rob never thought of such a thing. I used to be afraid that he would get a fancy for horse-racing. I have said to Uncle Horace, more than once, that the raising of blooded stock wasn’t an altogether safe business where there were boys.”
“I don’t see how you could think of such a thing,” I cried, indignantly. “I never did. There never was anything vulgar such as betting about our boys.” And then I remembered what Dave had done and hung my head.
“Uncle Horace used to like Dave’s way with the horses better than Rob’s,” I continued. “He said Rob had a sickly sentimentality about animals. You know he sold old Lucifer because Rob was so fond of him. I thought that was cruel.”
“I should prefer sentimentality to the racing instinct,” said Cyrus. “A boyish weakness that leans to the side of goodness is a very different thing from a lack of moral sense that leads to real wickedness.”
“You never did like Dave,” I cried, reproachfully. “When he and Rob got into boyish mischief you always laid all the blame upon Dave.”
“Was I not usually right?” asked Cyrus, quietly. “Rob has his faults, but he is one of ourselves, we know what to expect of him.”
“You talk as if Dave had not a drop of Partridge-blood in his veins!” I said, indignantly.