holding a lean
greyhound of a horse. Gething pulled down the stirrups.

"I meant to tell you to bring Cuddy for me to ride, last time, you
know."

"Not that devil. I could never lead him in. Frenchman, here, is well
behaved in cities."

Gething swung up. He sat very relaxed upon a horse. There was a
lifetime of practice behind that graceful seat and manner with the
reins. The horse started a low shuffling gait that would take them
rapidly out of the city to the Gething country place and stables.

"You know," Geth broke silence, "Cuddy's got his--going to be shot."

"Not one of us, sir," said Willet, "but will sing Hallelujah! He
kicked a hole in Muggins yesterday. None of the boys dare touch him,
so he hasn't been groomed proper since your father said he was to go.
It's more dangerous wipin' him off than to steeplechase the others."
Geth agreed. "I know it isn't right to keep a brute like that."

"No, sir. When he was young and winning stakes it seemed different.
I tell you what, we'll all pay a dollar a cake for soap made out 'er
old Cuddy."

"There'll be no soap made out of old Cuddy," Gething interrupted him,
"I'll ride him out--up to the top of Break-Neck Hill and shoot him
there. You'd better begin the trench by noon. When it's dug I'll
take him to the top and----"

"But nobody's been on his back since your father said it was useless
to try to make him over. Too old for steeplechasing and too much the
racer for anything else, and too much the devil to keep for a suvnor."

"Well, I'll ride him once again."

"But, Mr. Geth, he's just been standing in his box or the paddock
for four weeks now. We've been waiting for you to say when he was to
be shot. He's in a sweet temper and d' y'er know, I think, I do----"

"What do you think?" Willet blushed purple.

"I think Cuddy's got something in his head, some plan if he gets out.
I think he wants to kill some one before he dies. Yes, sir, _kill_
him. And you know if he gets the start of you there is no stopping
the dirty devil."

"Yes, he does tear a bit," Geth admitted. "But I never was on a
surer jumper. Lord! How the old horse can lift you!" Gething dropped
into a disconsolate silence, interrupted before long by Willet.

"Happiness will get Cuddy's box--she's in a stall. Cuddy was always
mean to her--used to go out of his way to kick her--and she, sweet
as a kitten."

"So you'll give her his box in revenge?"

"Revenge? Oh, no sir. Just common sense."