“I'm hopin' we may not have to,” remarked Dixon. “Anyway, there's no hurry about switchin' the boy onto Lauzanne, so we'll settle that when you come back.”
XXX
Allis's visit to Ringwood was a flying one. Filial devotion to her father had been one motive, but not the only one. Her brother Alan's wardrobe received a visitation from hands not too well acquainted with the intricacies of its make-up.
John Porter was undoubtedly brightened by the daughter's visit. Lucretia's defeat in the Handicap had increased his despondency. To prepare him gradually for further reverses Allis intimated, rather than asserted, that Lucretia might possibly have a slight cold—Digon wasn't sure; but they were going to run Lauzanne also. Like the Trainer, her father had but a very poor opinion of the Chestnut's powers in any other hands but in that of the girl's.
“Who'll ride him?” he asked, petulantly. “It seems you can't trust any of the boys now-a-days. If they're not pin-headed, they're crooked as a corkscrew. Crane tells me that Redpath didn't ride Lucretia out in the Handicap, and whether he rides the mare or Lauzanne it seems all one—we'll get beat anyway.”
“Another boy will have the mount on Lauzanne,” Allis answered.
“What difference will that make? You can't trust him.”
“You can trust this boy, father, as you might your own son, Alan.”
“I don't know about that. Alan in the bank is all right, but Alan as a jockey would be a different thing.”