THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 85 



" Ninety, eighty, seventy ? — come, say what you Hke, 

 gentlemen, anything to start him. Horse hke this must be 

 worth a lot of money, with the hunting season only Just begun. 

 What will anyone give for him ? ' ' 



" Ten guineas," came from a voice in the crowd. 



"Well, sir, I suppose you must be joking, but at all 

 events I'll take your bid, just to start with. Kun him 

 down again." 



" By-y'r-leave ! " shouts the white linen-jacketed man at 

 Marmion's head, and the crowd stands aside rapidly, as a pair 

 of chestnut and white heels swing round and Hash in the air 

 for a moment — a scraping and crunching of gravel underfoot, 

 an eager peering of heads — and the horse is again under the 

 rostrum, his head up in the air, his flag well lifted, and a roll 

 in his eye that effectually prevents the school of leg-feelers 

 from pursuing their ordinary avocations. 



" Ten guineas only is bid. Ten guin fifteen, fifteen, 



fifteen, fifteen guineas only — sixteen, seventeen, eighteen in 

 two places, nineteen, thank you, sir ; nineteen guineas only 

 bid. Gentlemen, don't let a chance like this slip you ! A grand 

 made horse like this must be worth three or four times as 

 much as I'm bid for him. And at nineteen guineas " 



" Twenty." The last bidder is Mr. Ronald Dennison. 



"At twenty guineas only. Now, gentlemen," etc., etc., and 

 the auctioneer tries his hardest to get a little more ; whilst 

 a shrewd-looking, hard-bitten old fellow whispers to his 

 neighbour — 



" If Ronald Dennison thinks of buying him, I expect he's a 

 good 'un. Screw loose somewhere, p'raps, but Master Ronny 

 knows a good horse, and I think I'll go a fiver on to his twenty. 



