Hoof Beats 



After Trotter had been with us about a week — 

 he had bought the Uttle green and white farm- 

 house about a mile from the kennels — Norman, 

 the master, met him and invited him to ride with 

 the pack. 



The first day he came out we jumped a big dog 

 fox in an open field, not a stone's throw" from the 

 kennels, hunted him across the Archer Farms and 

 down through Blue Mountain Valley. You know 

 the run, of course, straightaway, jump and jump 

 again — some one down sure at McAdam's gate, 

 and so on. Stiff country! 



Well, after that Trotter's position was assured. 

 He rode the master's Spread Eagle, an old ex- 

 steeplechaser, not an easy horse to sit by any 

 means. Naturally every one watched him — 

 newcomer, British, and all that. If there were 

 any flaws, we were out to pick them. But there 

 weren't. 



Trotter w^as lean as a ham-bone in spite of his 

 weight, and if ever a man looked a picture in the 

 saddle, he did. He sat straighter than most of 

 us, who had dropped into rather sloppy habits — 

 something between a Life Guard's and a fox- 

 hunting seat that looked workmanlike and grace- 

 ful. 



Besides, what was more important, his hands 

 were as light as a child's. The master himself 

 150 



