i88 The Best F our te en-Han der in Eytgland, 



lengths to serve a ^'pal," or even a gentleman vt^ho trusted him. He 

 was a jovial, hearty fellovi^, with a peculiarly English yeoman cut 

 about him, could sing an excellent song, and tapped as good a glass 

 of ale as any man in the county. He was always remarkably civil 

 and respectful to his betters, and, as nothing beyond a predilection 

 for any kind of fun or mischief, and an innate propensity to get the 

 best of any one in a deal (a very venial offence, by the way, in our 

 horsey neiglibourhood), could be brought home to him, he reigned 

 unmolested at the " Crooked Billet " over subjects who particularly 

 delighted in " a shiny night at a season of the year," and whose 

 ideas respecting the rights of meum and tuum were probably hardly 

 so strict as they should have been. In fact, although the old forest 

 might be very much changed since the days when bold Robin 

 Hood roamed at will through its merry glades and pastures, there 

 was still a very lawless, roving, Robin Hoodish spirit remaining in 

 the characters of the inhabitants of that district; and if the bold 

 outlaw could have arisen from his grave to revisit the scenes of his 

 former exploits, the " Crooked Billet" would assuredly have been his 

 house of call. But all Joe's multifarious accomplishments were as 

 nothing compared to his consummate knowledge of every phase in 

 the chicanery of low horse-dealing and "leather-flapping 3" and 

 although it naturally happened that out of the many horses which 

 yearly passed through his hands, a good one must now and then 

 turn up, I hardly ever heard of a man who cared to venture on a 

 second deal with him. 



Such was Joe Cox, such were his accomplishments j and a 'S^ery 

 respectable sort of acquaintance!" I fancy I hear the reader ex- 

 claim. Probably this w^as correct, but, nevertheless, I must candidly 

 confess that I did not altogether dislike the man 3 and although, as 

 I shall presently explain, he had left his mark pretty deeply upon 

 me in the first and only horse transaction I ever had with him, still 

 there was something so talismanic in the words, " The best fourteen- 

 hander in England," especially just at a time when to be the 

 possessor of such a treasure would ensure my winning the Hollerton 

 Cup 3 and, moreover, as there was evidently some mystery to be 



