t out with us."
"Yes, I know; but still I can't think he would like to do that."
"But he _is_ doing it. Here he comes again."
This time, as the horse galloped by, they both had a perfectly plain
view of the black's excited face and position as, evidently in a high
state of glee, he tore by on the well-bred horse.
"Now," said Rifle; "was I right?"
"Oh yes," said Norman, with a sigh. "You were quite right. But be
ready to shout and stop him as he comes round again."
They waited for the sound of the warning thunder of hoofs, but though
they heard them grow more faint, and then sound softer as they paced
along on the far side of the paddock, the sound did not increase, and
while they were listening there came a distinct snort, followed by a
loud neighing nearer to them; another snort, and then a flash of vivid
lightning illumining the paddock long enough for them to see the drove
of horses in the middle all gazing in one direction toward another horse
walking in their direction. Then there was black darkness, another
snort, an answering neigh, and silence, broken by the faintly-heard
sound of grass being torn off from its roots.
"He's gone," said Norman, in a whisper. "Let's run and wake father."
"What's the good now? Let's go back to bed, and tell him in the
morning. No: I don't like to. Why, he'd be ready to half kill poor old
Shanter."
Norman was silent, and they tramped back to the house when, just as
Norman was reaching up to get hold of the window-sill, a hand was
stretched out.
"Hallo! you two. Where have you been?"
"Never mind," said Norman. "Wait till we get in again."
They both climbed in silently, and Tim began again.
"I say, it was shabby to go without me;" and when they explained why
they had hurried off, he was no better satisfied. "I wouldn't have
served you so," he grumbled. "But I say, won't uncle be in a way?"
"Yes, if Norman tells him," said Rifle. "Don't you think we had better
hold our tongues?"
A long discussion followed, with the result that Rifle found himself in
the minority, and went to sleep feeling rather unhappy about the black.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
"GOOD TASTE FOR A SAVAGE."
Rifle felt obliged in the morning to join cousin and brother in the
announcement to the captain, who looked as if he could hardly believe it
at first, but ended by walking straight to the paddock, to find the colt
looking more distressed than ever; and on a closer inspec
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