," said Hughes, as the blow slid off his raised
stick, and Kittiwynk laid her shoulder to the tall pony's quarters, and
shoved him aside just as Lutyens on Shiraz sent the ball where it had
come from, and the tall pony went skating and slipping away to the left.
Kittiwynk, seeing that Polaris had joined Corks in the chase for the
ball up the ground, dropped into Polaris' place, and then "time" was
called.

The Skidars' ponies wasted no time in kicking or fuming. They knew that
each minute's rest meant so much gain, and trotted off to the rails, and
their saises began to scrape and blanket and rub them at once.

"Whew!" said Corks, stiffening up to get all the tickle of the big
vulcanite scraper. "If we were playing pony for pony, we would bend
those Archangels double in half an hour. But they'll bring up fresh ones
and fresh ones and fresh ones after that--you see."

"Who cares?" said Polaris. "We've drawn first blood. Is my hock
swelling?"

"Looks puffy," said Corks. "You must have had rather a wipe. Don't let
it stiffen. You 'll be wanted again in half an hour."

"What's the game like?" said The Maltese Cat.

"Ground's like your shoe, except where they put too much water on it,"
said Kittiwynk. "Then it's slippery. Don't play in the centre. There's a
bog there. I don't know how their next four are going to behave, but we
kept the ball hanging, and made 'em lather for nothing. Who goes out?
Two Arabs and a couple of country-breds! That's bad. What a comfort it
is to wash your mouth out!"

Kitty was talking with a neck of a lather-covered soda-water bottle
between her teeth, and trying to look over her withers at the same time.
This gave her a very coquettish air.

"What's bad?" said Grey Dawn, giving to the girth and admiring his
well-set shoulders.

"You Arabs can't gallop fast enough to keep yourselves warm--that's
what Kitty means," said Polaris, limping to show that his hock needed
attention. "Are you playing back, Grey Dawn?"

"'Looks like it," said Grey Dawn, as Lutyens swung himself up. Powell
mounted The Rabbit, a plain bay country-bred much like Corks, but with
mulish ears. Macnamara took Faiz-Ullah, a handy, short-backed little
red Arab with a long tail, and Hughes mounted Benami, an old and sullen
brown beast, who stood over in front more than a polo-pony should.

"Benami looks like business," said Shiraz. "How's your temper, Ben?" The
old campaigner hobbled off without answering, and The Maltes