"No. He's a good-looker all right."
"He is more than that. He's a lovely ride. And he can jump anything you can see the sky over."
Brat moved forward to the horse and made friendly overtures. Timber accepted the gesture without responding. He looked gratified but faintly bored.
"He should have been a tenor," Brat said.
"A tenor?" Simon said. "Oh, I see. The conceit." He considered the horse afresh. "I suppose he is rather pleased with himself. I hadn't thought about it before. Would you like to try him out, by the way?"
"I certainly would."
"He ought to have some exercise to-day and he hasn't had it so far." He hailed a stable-man. "Arthur, bring a saddle for Timber."
"Yes, sir. A double bridle, sir?"
"No; a snaffle." And, as the man went, to Brat: "He has a mouth like a glove."
Brat wondered if he was merely reluctant to submit that tender mouth to the ham hands of a Westerner with a curb rein at his disposal.