"Red hair," said Mr. Whitehouse reflectively. "They say with us, a good horse has no colour. That means, if the horse is a good 'un, never mind his colour;—and I suppose it's true of women.... I don't object to chestnut horses—or red-haired gells.... But, look here, Master Dick, I tell you frank, you're wasting your opportunities."
"You can't teach me anything, old man."
"Can't I? Never turn a deaf ear to a friendly tip—a chance tip may alter a man's life. That's a motto with me—and I'm acting on it this moment, myself."
Then Mr. Whitehouse told his friend that he was about to leave Mallingbridge forever. Mallingbridge was too small; he intended to throw himself into the larger world of London. He had very nearly fixed up an engagement with the big Bayswater people; it was practically a settled thing.
"That's why I checked the old bloke like I done just now. Mr. Young he twigs there's something up; but he doesn't know what's in store for him. The minute I've got my job definite, I shall open my chest to him—tell him once for all what I think of him. 'E won't forget it;" and the riding-master laughed confidently.
"I'm sorry you're going."
"Thanks. But why am I lighting out so determined and sudden, instead of vegetating here half me life? Well—because I got a straight tip, and all by chance."
"How was that?"
"About a month ago a chap comes in here with a lady for a lesson. Captain Mellish—Meller—I forget the name. Anyhow, he was a son of a gun of a swell to look at—sploshing it about up at the Dolphin; and he brings in this actress from the theatre—not a chorus gell, mind you, but the leading performer—who was drawing her hundred quid a week, so they said. Well, he evidently fancied he was a bit of a horseman himself, and he keeps chipping in. When I told her to get her hands back, and hold her reins long, he says, 'yes, but you'll want to hold a horse shorter by the head, if he balks at his fences.' I answered without hesitation, 'I'm very well aware of refusing horses,' I said, 'and also how easy it is to hang on by a horse's mouth when you land over a fence.... But,' I said, 'let me know who is giving the lesson—you or me. Wait, miss,' I said, 'if the Captain has other directions to give you.' She rounded on him at once, asking him to shut his head. He turned it off with a laugh, and gave me a slap on the back. 'Have it your own way, Mr. Riding-Master.' You'll understand, he said that sneering.
"But I believe he thought the more of me before the lesson was over. Anyhow, when his tart had gone to the dressing-room to change her things, he and I got yarning here—exactly as if it had been you and me—like we're doing now.