“Of course he did,” said Angelica; “I just left him in Mrs. Everett’s box, and I’ve got my own saddle and everything.”
“All right, miss,” said William. “Get the saddle, Tim.”
William did not believe that Mr. Haughton had given any such orders, but he had gotten into trouble not long before by refusing to give a mount to a friend of Haughton’s whom he did not know and who came armed only with verbal authority. He knew that if any harm was done he could hide behind that occurrence.
“I want a double-reined snaffle,” said Angelica. “Emanuel,” she added, “you have the bit I used to ride her with. Bring my own bridle.”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to hold her, miss,” muttered William; “but it’s as you say. Hurry up with that saddle,” he called to the stable-boy. “We ain’t got no time to lose. They’re callin’ the class now. You’re number two, miss; I’ll get your number for you.”
“You’ll be kilt! You’ll be kilt!” said Caroline, dolefully. “Think what Miss Cushing will say!”
“Caroline,” said Angelica, “you don’t know anything about horses, so you hush.” And then she added under her breath, “If I can only get started before Jim sees me!”
In the Everett box they were waiting for the five-foot-six class to begin. They called it the five-foot-six class because there were four jumps that were five feet six inches high; the others were an even five feet. It was the “sensational event” of the evening. Thus far the show had been dull.
“Those saddle-horses were an ordinary lot,” observed Reggie.