a jockey--supreme self-confidence.

"Take her along at three-quarter speed till you get round them
goss-bushes," growled Old Mat. "And when you feel the hill against you
shove her for a furlong. Don't ride her out. And no fancy pranks, mind."

"And sit still," said the girl.

"Jerry, you take him along," continued the trainer.

The lads made sundry guttural noises in their throats, leaned forward as
though to whisper in their horses' ears, and stole easily away.

A flash of swift feet, a diminishing thunder of hooves, and the pair
made a broad sweep round the gorse-clump and came racing home.

Once the girl spoke.

"Keep your hands quiet," she ordered deeply.

Opposite them Jerry took a pull, but Albert and the mare went thundering
past the watching group, the lad's fair head bowed over his horse's
withers. He had her fairly extended, yet going well within herself, her
head tucked into her chest.

On the ridge behind them he steadied to a walk, jumped off, and led the
mare, breathing deep and flinging the foam abroad, down to the party.

"That's a little bit o' better," muttered the old man. "She can slip it.
That lad'll ride yet, Boy."

"Perhaps; but don't tell him so," said the girl sharply.

She walked her pony across to the lad, and laid her hand on the mare's
wet neck.

"That's a little better to-day, Albert," she said. "But you ought to
steady a bit before you come."

The boy touched his cap and rode arrogantly on to join the other lads.

Monkey Brand saw the look upon his face.

"Once you knows you know nothin', you may learn somethin'," he said
confidentially as the lad passed him. Then he turned with a wink to
Silver and said _sotto-voce_: "They calls him Boysie when he's crossed
'em. See he apes Miss Boy. He features her a bit, and he knows it. She's
teaching him to ride, and he's picked up some of her tricks. Course he
ain't got her way with 'em. But he might make a tidy little 'orseman one
o' these days, as I tells him, if so be he was to tumble on his head a
nice few times and get the conceit knocked out of him."

The lads continued their patrol.

Their knees were to their chins, and their hands thrust in front of
them, a rein in each, almost as though they were about to pound a big
drum with their fists.

Monkey nodded at them.

"She rides long, Miss Boy do--old style, cavalry style, same as you
yourself, sir. They've all got the monkey-up-a-stick seat."

"Don't you believe in it?