know what to do for your gray's scratched legs, Betty."

For Betty had changed with Bob again and rode Jim, the horse that had slid
down into the ravine. Betty was really sorry about the scratches and felt
somehow as though she were a little to blame for the accident. She should
have been more careful in guiding the gray.

Once at the great stables and paddocks, however, Betty's mind was relieved
on this point. Louise had an errand from her father to Mr. Bolter and went
away with Esther to interview the horse owner. Mr. Littell was a builder
and constructor and he bought many work horses of Mr. Bolter's raising, as
well as saddle stock.

If there was anything on four feet that Betty and Bob loved, it was a
horse. In the west they had ridden almost continually; their mounts out at
Flame City had been their dearest possessions and they would have been
glad to bring them east, both Betty's Clover-pony and Bob's big white
horse, had it been wise to do so.

At Shadyside and Salsette, however, there had been no opportunity for
horseback riding. They had found pleasure in other forms of outdoor
exercise. Now, enabled to view so many beautiful and sleek horses, Betty,
as well as Bob and the others, dismounted with delight and entered the
long stables.

While her gray was being examined by one of the stablemen, Betty went
along a whole row of box stalls by herself, in each of which a horse was
standing quietly or moving about. More than one came to thrust a soft
muzzle over the door of the stall and with pointed ears and intelligent
gaze seemed to ask if the pretty, brown-eyed girl had something nice in
her pocket.

"Hi, Miss!" croaked a hoarse voice behind her. "If you want to see a
bang-hup 'orse--a real topper--come down 'ere."

Betty turned to see a little crooked man, with one shoulder much higher
than the other, who walked a good deal like a crab, sideways. He grinned
at her cheerfully in spite of his ugly body and twisted features. He
really was a dreadfully homely man, and he was not much taller than Betty
herself. He wore a grimy jockey cap, a blue blouse and stained white
trousers, and it was quite evident that he was one of the stable helpers.

"This 'ere is the lydy for you to see, Miss," continued the little man
eagerly. "She's from old Hengland, Miss. I come with her myself and I've
knowed her since she was foaled. Mr. Bolter ain't got in 'is 'ole stable,
Miss, a mare like this one."

He pointed to a glo