62 OINEY O'SHEA. 



Maud was one of the horses that Floyd and the 

 two boys had on the lonely road. I afterwards 

 learned that the other horse was Claret by Reporter, 

 out of the Vandal mare Seven Oaks. He was a blocky 

 built bay horse almost a brown, standing a shade over 

 fifteen hands, with the tidy, hardy look which is found 

 in horses that will stand all kinds of care and grow 

 fat on it. Before I arrived Maud and Claret had run 

 a trial of five furlongs and the boys were getting ready 

 to mount for another trip over the road when I came 

 up. Maud had, for some reason, not run to suit her 

 owner, and as he did not have any objection to my 

 seeing the pair gallop, I climbed up on the fence to see 

 the heat. The pair trotted down the road until they 

 came to a slight raise of ground and from which they 

 could be distinctly seen by anyone standing on the 

 fence or, for that matter, on the bank at the side of the 

 road. Floyd walked down the road to a place that I 

 afterwards learned was measured as half a mile from 

 the foot of the hill. As the horses wheeled in the dis- 

 tance I saw him wave his hat and then drop it. As it 

 fell a little cloud of dust in the distance showed that 

 the pair started and in a few moments I saw them 

 coming towards us. The boy on Maud was in his 

 shirt sleeves, while Claret's rider wore a black jacket. 

 As they approached the place where Floyd stood, I 

 could see that Maud was in front and galloping very 

 freely, but as soon as she passed him she seemed to shut 

 up like a jack-knife, while Claret, with his ears laying 

 flat on his neck and mouth open, swept by her like 

 a thunderbolt, his rider doing his utmost to stop him. 



Maud did not appear to be distressed when she 

 pulled up, and after taking a couple of long breaths, she 



