ropped on to his hands and huddled against the soaking ground as
the pair came thundering by. He need not have feared detection: the
rider's head was low over the horse's neck, the rider's face averted.
All he saw was the back of a fair head, close-cropped.

Kneeling up, he turned his glasses once again on the little figure
waiting now alone upon the brow.

As he stared, he heard the quiet footfall of a horse climbing the hill
behind him.

He dropped his glasses and looked round.

Silver on Heart of Oak had come to a halt close by and was looking at
him.

"Early bird," said the young man. "Looking for worms, I suppose."

Joses grinned as he closed his glasses, and rising to his feet brushed
his sopping knees.

"Yes," he said. "And finding 'em."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Ikey's Own

Maudie was not the only one who had cause to complain that life at
Putnam's was changed now greatly for the worse.

It all centred round that great, calm, munching creature in the
loose-box, with the big blue dog curled underneath the manger.

Monkey Brand was moody; Old Mat irritable; his daughter curt; Silver
puzzled, and Mrs. Woodburn perturbed.

For once in her life that habitually tranquil lady was restless, and
betrayed her trouble.

The young man marked it and was genuinely sorry for her.

She saw it and appealed to him.

"Mr. Silver," she said, taking him suddenly, "is she going to ride?"

The other met her with clearly honest eyes.

"I don't know," he said.

The old lady's distress was obvious.

"Mr. Silver," she said, "please tell me. Do _you_ want her to ride?"

"No!" he cried, almost with indignation. "Of course I don't. I've seen
too many Nationals."

"Have you asked her not to?"

He grinned a little sheepishly.

"The truth is I've annoyed her," he said. "And she's all spikes when I
touch her."

Mrs. Woodburn appealed to her husband, but got nothing out of him.

"It's no good comin' to me, Mar. I don't know nothin' at all about it,"
he said shortly. "She's trainin' the hoss. If I so much as looks at him
I gets my nose bit off."

The old lady's distress was such that at length the young man took his
courage in his hands and approached the girl.

"Boy," he said, "are you going to ride him? _Please_ tell me."

The girl set her lips.

"You think I'm afraid of Aintree," she said deeply.

"I don't," he pleaded. "I swear to you I don't."

She was not to be appeased.

"You do," she answered me