ullocks, boy."

"'S all right, Dave; 's all right--git on!" From Paddy Maloney,
impatiently.

Paddy, an out-and-out cur amongst horses himself, was anxious to be
relieved of the colt's head. Young horses sometimes knock down the man
who is holding them. Paddy was aware of it.

Dave took the reins carefully, and was about to place his foot in the
stirrup when his restless eye settled on a wire-splice in the
crupper--also Dad's handiwork. He hesitated and commenced a remark.
But Dad was restless; Paddy Maloney anxious (as regarded himself);
besides, the storm was coming.

Dad said: "Damn it, what are y' 'FRAID o', boy? THAT'll hold--jump on."

Paddy said: "NOW, Dave, while I've 'is 'ead round."

Joe (just arrived with the cattle-pup) chipped in.

He said: "Wot, is he fuf-fuf-fuf-f-rikent of him, Dad?"

Dave heard them. A tear like a hailstone dropped out of his eye.

"It's all damn well t' TALK," he fired off; "come in and RIDE
th'----horse then, if y' s'----GAME!"

A dead silence.

The cattle-pup broke away from Joe and strolled into the yard. It
barked feebly at Callaghan, then proceeded to worry his heels. It
seemed to take Callaghan for a calf. Callaghan kicked it up against
the rails. It must have taken him for a cow then.

Dave's blood was up. He was desperate. He grabbed the reins roughly,
put his foot in the stirrup, gripped the side of the pommel, and was on
before you could say "Woolloongabba."

With equal alacrity, Paddy let the colt's head go and made tracks,
chuckling. The turn things had taken delighted him. Excitement (and
pumpkin) was all that kept Paddy alive. But Callaghan did n't
budge--at least not until Dave dug both heels into him. Then he made a
blind rush and knocked out a panel of the yard--and got away with Dave.
Off he went, plunging, galloping, pig-jumping, breaking loose limbs and
bark off trees with Dave's legs. A wire-fence was in his way. It
parted like the Red Sea when he came to it--he crashed into it and
rolled over. The saddle was dangling under his belly when he got up;
Dave and the bridle were under the fence. But the storm had come, and
such a storm! Hailstones as big as apples nearly--first one here and
there, and next moment in thousands.

Paddy Maloney and Joe ran for the house; Dave, with an injured ankle
and a cut head, limped painfully in the same direction; but Dad saw the
plough-horses turning and twisting about in their chains and set