en how he could waltz in time to the music, and
the people who banked the circle as far up as Skipper could see shouted
and clapped their hands until it seemed as if a thunderstorm had broken
loose. At last one of the men in tall hats tied a blue ribbon on
Skipper's bridle.

When Reddy got him into the stable, he fed him four big red apples, one
after the other. Next day Skipper knew that he was a famous horse. Reddy
showed him their pictures in the paper.

For a whole year Skipper was the pride of the force. He was shown to
visitors at the stables. He was patted on the nose by the Mayor. The
Chief, who was a bigger man than the Mayor, came up especially to look
at him. In the park Skipper did his tricks every day for ladies in fine
dress who exclaimed, "How perfectly wonderful!" as well as for pretty
nurse-maids who giggled and said, "Now did you ever see the likes o'
that, Norah?"

And then came the spavin. Ah, but that was the beginning of the end!
Were you ever spavined? If so, you know all about it. If you haven't,
there's no use trying to tell you. Rheumatism? Well, that may be bad;
but a spavin is worse.

For three weeks Reddy rubbed the lump on the hock with stuff from a
brown bottle, and hid it from the inspector. Then, one black morning,
the lump was discovered. That day Skipper did not go out on post. Reddy
came into the stall, put his arm around his neck and said "Good-by" in a
voice that Skipper had never heard him use before. Something had made it
thick and husky. Very sadly Skipper saw him saddle one of the newcomers
and go out for duty.

Before Reddy came back Skipper was led away. He was taken to a big
building where there were horses of every kind--except the right kind.
Each one had his own peculiar "out," although you couldn't always tell
what it was at first glance.

But Skipper did not stay here long. He was led into a big ring before a
lot of men. A man on a box shouted out a number, and began to talk very
fast. Skipper gathered that he was talking about him. Skipper learned
that he was still only six years old, and that he had been owned as a
saddle-horse by a lady who was about to sail for Europe and was closing
out her stable. This was news to Skipper. He wished Reddy could hear it.

The man talked very nicely about Skipper. He said he was kind, gentle,
sound in wind and limb, and was not only trained to the saddle but would
work either single or double. The man wanted to know how much