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He wouldn't have dared to speak like that to your aunt if she hadn't got to be so meek-like, what with war and bother." By this time Dixy was with reason displeased and so restless that Mrs. Crocker let the reins drop, but as John Penhallow rode away she cried, "The price of meats at Grey Pine has been going up ever since, until Miss Leila " The rest was lost to the Captain.
"Nice work for Sunday, Miss Grey." She made no direct reply. "He told me that horse ought to be ridden by by John or you, and no one else. He says the way to ruin a horse is to have a lot of people ride him like Pat they're just spoiling Dixy " "What! in four days? Nonsense." "But," said the counsel in the case, "it's to be ten. It isn't about John, it's Dixy's mouth, uncle."
John hesitated before he asked, "Could not I have, sir, a few days with Aunt Ann at the Cape?" "No, I shall want you here." John was silent and disappointed. The Squire saw it. "It can't be helped I do not feel able to be alone. Leila will be away a year more and you will be gone for several years. For your sake and mine I want you this summer. Take care! You lost a stirrup when Dixy shied.
Luckily I received his news, and no one else. You will go to Westways and say there is to be no swimming for a week in my pool." "Yes, sir." "You are not to ride Dixy or any other horse for ten days." This was terrible. "Now, be off with you, and tell Mr. Rivers to come in." "Yes, sir." When Rivers sat down, the Squire suppressing his laughter related the story. "The boy's coming on, Mark.
Just look at this letter found with it," and Tom pulled out of an inside pocket of his blouse a letter written in a most miserable scrawl, assuring some "Dear Capting" of "Here's my heart and here's my hand, For the man who fit for Dixy land." Monday passed in much the same manner.
Neither strange noises nor machines disturbed Dixy as John rode through the busy iron-mills to the door of a small brick house, so well known that no sign announced it as the home of the only medical man available at the mills or in Westways. John tied Dixy to the hitching-post, gnawed by the doctor's horse during long hours of waiting on an unpunctual man.
John too was asking questions and beginning now and then to wonder more and more that what Westways discussed should never be mentioned at Grey Pine. He rode Dixy early in the mornings with Leila at his side, fished or swam in the afternoons, and so the days ran on. On September 30th, Ann was to take Leila to the school in Maryland.
It would take too long to recount the games in which he and I were engaged in the subsequent career of the Conquerors, but an incident or two will not be considered out of place. If Dixy had one weakness more than another it consisted in a lively sense of his own importance as a crack goalkeeper, and the supposed invincible qualities of his club, which he often declared could not be beaten.
Rivers, Dixy hornets, muskrats," he laughed. She noted the omission of Leila Grey. "And what else?" "Oh, the tragedy of Arnold, the pathos of Washington's despair, his words, 'Who is there now I can trust?" "It came home to me, John, this morning when Colonel Beauregard showed us the portraits of the major-generals of the Revolution.
"My God! you hurt, sir? Come to look for you can you ride? I fetched Dixy mare's killed." "I am not badly hurt. Tighten this handkerchief and give me your arm I can't ride," He arose, and amazed at his weakness, dragged himself down the slope, through the reforming lines, the thousands of prisoners, the reinforcing cannon and the wreckage of the hillside.