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Porter's irrelevant simile caused Allis to start, and Crane's relentless eyes came and peeped at her through the narrow-slitted lids. "All right, though, little girl; your faith may make Lauzanne win, and I think Lucretia's speed will carry her to the front, so you may strike a bit of luck at last." A few days later Mike Gaynor took the stable up to Gravesend.
"A new boy, I'm tryin'," Dixon explained to Gaynor, after he lifted a little lad to Lauzanne's back at the paddock gate, and they stood watching the big Chestnut swing along with his usual sluggish stride. "He's got good hands," said Mike, critically, "though he seems a bit awkward in the saddle. Ye couldn't have a better trial horse fer a new b'y.
He doesn’t usually wear a beard. He grew it for the occasion.” “So, acting for Tip Gaynor, you undertook to ruin us all and the good name of our boats! You even met Dave Pollard and got him to take you on as a machinist for our boats!” “Tip knew a man who was willing to introduce me to Mr. Pollard.”
There was still the message to be had from Ben Gaynor, who, it seemed, lay hurt somewhere in Coloma. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Gloria, and for the moment all thoughts of Gaynor or a message fled from his mind. Again she was as pale as death; she caught at the back of the chair which had served her thus before; she lifted to King eyes sick with terror.
"You're wrong, Gaynor," declared a thin, tall, hawkfaced man, who was in his shirt sleeves; "my boy was in that run, and it isn't Carson's fault at all. It's dope, Mike. Lauzanne was fair crazy with it at the post; and McKay was dead to the world on the little mare the Starter couldn't get him away." "That's right, Mike," added Dixon; "Carson fined the boy fifty, an' the Stewards set him down."
"If it is necessary to have a reason that was one." "To talk to me about Miss Gaynor?" "To tell you how she talks about you." "That will be very interesting especially if you have seen her since her second visit to me." "Her second visit?" Thursdale pushed his chair back with a start and moved to another. "She came to see you again?" "This morning, yes by appointment."
Gaynor in his abashed stammer that Mark King had showed up while they were gone. Gloria, on her way to her room, whirled and came back, and extracted the tale in its entirety, pumping it out of the brief, few-worded old Spalding in jerky details. King had appeared late yesterday afternoon, coming out of the woods. Looked like he'd been roughin' it an' goin' it hard, at that.
And she was concerned with his answer; already she knew that he had a way of being very direct and straight from the shoulder. "Of course I do," he said heartily, a little surprised by the abruptness of the question and yet without hesitation. "Very much." She flushed prettily; she, Gloria Gaynor, flushed up because Mark King said in blunt, unvarnished fashion: "I like you very much."
Gaynor stared after her she closed the door softly and went tiptoeing downstairs and out into the brightening dawn, where Mark King awaited her with the horses. From behind a window-curtain Gloria's mother watched the girl tripping away through the meadow to the stable, set back among the trees.
Shandy's escapade with Diablo had brought a new trouble to Mike Gaynor. The boy had been discharged with a severe reprimand from Mr. Porter, and a punctuation mark of disapproval from the Trainer's horn-like hand. He had departed from Ringwood inwardly swearing revenge upon everybody connected with that place; against Diablo he was particularly virulent.
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