THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 6i 



" Why not you ? " he asked quickly. 



" Me? oh — er — well, because I didn't exactly want a mount 

 that day, don't you know. And I thought " 



" There's something pretty wrong about the beggar — some- 

 thing beyond his just stepping it with that ass, Travers — and 

 you would prefer that I should break my neck, to taking the 

 chance yourself." 



" Oh, infinitely ! " exclaimed Jack, with engaging frankness. 



" Well, then, why don't you say so ? " rejoined the Baronet. 

 ^' Why do you try to humbug me ? " 



" Oh, I don't know," replied Jack, indifferently, " keeps one's 

 hand in, don't it? Well, if you want the truth, perhaps the 

 horse is a bolter — perhaps he isn't. It might very likely be 

 simply on account of Binkie's feeble riding. But he can't be 

 very hard to handle, if that mug could sit on him all the time." 



" That's true. Oh, I'll ride him right enough ; but really. 

 Jack, I'd chuck up the attempt to act the unselfish and 

 benevolent bounder, if I were you ; I would really, or one 

 ■of these days you'll strain yourself at it." 



When Travers Algernon arrived home he found the tea 

 awaiting him, and Sir Tommy comfortably ensconced in his, 

 Travers's, own particular chair, and smoking one of his 

 eighteenpenny Cabanas. Mr. Jack Dashwood had retired 

 upstairs, and w'as at that moment floundering about in a 

 most delightful warm tub. Binkie swallowed a cup of hot tea, 

 and felt better. 



" I say, Tommy, you can ride my new horse next Saturday, 

 if you like. He ran away with me, and put me into a ditch, 

 jou know," and the meaningless blue eye was turned upon 

 Tommy to see how he would take the proposition. 



