210 THE GREATEST RUN 



forty minutes I rode Faraway up and down 

 the hills, over the moors, and in and out of 

 the gills before we found the second and 

 ever-memorable fox. My brother Jack did 

 not have a second horse, but rode his mount 

 (a blood Irish hunter called Sligo, that cost 

 two hundred and fifty guineas, and was 

 worth every sixpence of the money) all day, 

 and "let him have it" in the first run. If 

 we had both started from scratch, he might 

 have taken first honours ; as it was, he took 

 the second place in a numerous field, as the 

 sequel will show. I have no doubt that the 

 competition between us ministered to my 

 success, for we generally rode a trifle jealous, 

 but were always best pleased when we could 

 share the honours. 



I must for a moment depart from my 



