“That the horse is selling at that.”
“Selling? What does that meant”
There was an explosion of laughter from those about her. They explained.
“Oh, what cheats men are!” she exclaimed with conviction.
“Come, I 'll let you off if you ask quarter,” laughed Mr. Newby. “No horse can jump with knees as big as that.”
“Never! I 'll back him to the end,” she declared. “Oh, there he is now! There is his yellow jacket,” she added, as the buzz grew louder about them, and glasses were levelled at the horses as they filed by spirited and springy on their way to the starting-point some furlongs down the course. No one else appeared to be looking at the big brown. But his rider was scanning the boxes till his eye rested on a big hat with a white feather; then he sat up very straight.
Two of the gentlemen came up from the paddock. Colonel Snowden had the horse that was next to the favorite. They were now talking over the chances.
“Well, what are you going to do? How do you stand?” his friends asked.
“A good chance to win. I don't know what that new horse can do, of course; but I should not think he could beat Hurricane.”
“Of course he cannot,” said Mr. Newby. “Ridden by a green country boy!”