I can get a hundred thousand to a thousand about him."

Her gray eyes searched him. Not a corner of him but her questioning
spirit ransacked it.

"How much money have you got left?"

"When all's squared? a few thousand, I believe."

She looked into the fire, one little foot poised on the fender. He was
provoking her. She felt it.

"I could just about win on him," she said. "I think."

"I'm not so sure," he answered.

She became defiant in a flash.

"One thing," she said, "I'm sure nobody else could."

He followed up his advantage deliberately.

"I'm not so sure," he said.

Her eyes sparkled frostily.

She understood.

He was furious because her father had spoken to her; resentful that in
her hands should be the winning for him of a potential fortune.

She would show him.

"I might think of riding him perhaps," she said slowly, "on one
condition."

"What's that?"

"That you don't bet on him."

He rolled off into deep, ironical laughter.

"Done with you!" he cried, holding out his hand.

She brushed it aside.

"What I said was that I _might think_ of it," she said, and made for the
door.

He did not pursue.

"Oh, do!" he cried lazily. "Do!"

"I shall see," she answered. "I might and I might not. Probably the
latter."

She went out with firm lips.

"I see what it is!" he cried after her, still ironical.

She turned about.

"What?"

"You're afraid of Aintree."

The girl, who in many matters was still a child, flared at once.

"Afraid of Aintree!" she cried. "I'll show you whether I'm afraid of
Aintree or not!"

She marched down the passage, pursued by his mocking laughter, and went
out into the yard with nodding head and flashing eyes.

Then she walked to the gate and looked across the Paddock Close.

Mr. Haggard was walking slowly up toward the church to take the
children's service. On the public path by the stile were two figures
engaged in conversation. She recognized them at once. They were Joses
and Monkey Brand.

Thoughtfully she crossed into the stable.

It was Sunday afternoon, and there was nobody about but Maudie, who
departed coldly on the entrance of the girl, suspecting trouble.
Maudie's suspicions were but too well-founded.

The girl went straight to Four-Pound-the-Second's loose-box and opened
it. The Monster-without-Manners emerged and greeted his mistress with
yawns. The brown horse with the tan muzzle shifted slowly toward her.
She ran her eye over him,