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Updated: June 9, 2025
He halted when the horse was well out towards the center of the open, and the outlaw braced awkwardly, as if to receive an attack. With the bridle reins held in his hand at the pommel of the saddle, Van stood for a moment by the chestnut's side, then, with incredible celerity of movement, suddenly placed his foot in the stirrup and was up and well seated before the blinded pony could have moved.
"I hope it won't," said Fyles, in the same light manner, as he followed out of the corral. "That's a dandy plug of yours," he said with admiration, as his appreciative eyes noted the chestnut's points. "He surely is," returned Charlie. "He can go some, too. I'll give you a run one day if you fancy yours." Fyles was hooking his reins over the post Charlie had vacated. "Mine?" he said.
He was just a dunderhead, like any one of us just as much as the most eminent feminine psychologist alive which is saying a good deal. So he drove away disappointed, the sobriety of the chestnut's return trot through Morebury contrasting oddly with the dashing clatter of the former journey.
All eyes were on that throng of the first mounts in the Service; brilliant glances by the hundred gleamed down behind hothouse bouquets of their chosen color, eager ones by the thousand stared thirstily from the crowded course, the roar of the Ring subsided for a second, a breathless attention and suspense succeeded it; the Guardsmen sat on their drags, or lounged near the ladies with their race-glasses ready, and their habitual expression of gentle and resigned weariness in nowise altered because the Household, all in all, had from sixty to seventy thousand on the event; and the Seraph murmured mournfully to his cheroot, "that chestnut's no end fit," strong as his faith was in the champion of the Brigades.
The artist turned round to see Boy leading the old mare into the yard. "Yes, Miss." "Take Mr. Silver's pony." "Yes, Miss." "Jerry, put Billy Bluff on the chain. Stanley, put that chestnut's muzzle on." She led the old mare to the gate that opened on the Paddock Close. Silver followed her, and looking back saw Monkey Brand limp into the yard from the road, leading Goosey Gander.
She could hardly move, she was so weak, and her face was like death. I put a pistol to the chestnut's head, and ended it. The girl stooped and kissed the poor beast's neck, but spoke nothing. As I helped her on my Tophet I put my lips to the sleeve of her dress. Mother of Heaven! what could a man do she was so dam' brave.
She could hardly move, she was so weak, and her face was like death. I put a pistol to the chestnut's head, and ended it. The girl stooped and kissed the poor beast's neck, but spoke nothing. As I helped her on my Tophet I put my lips to the sleeve of her dress. Mother of Heaven! what could a man do she was so dam' brave.
Reckon I'll go up, jest to keep him from feelin' bad." Several others seemed impressed by the same idea, and moved quite briskly in the direction of Chestnut's saloon.
Last Chance had started five times and each time Hopwood had listened to a thrilling description of the race; the chestnut's performances had been bad enough to strain the Kid's powers of invention. On the eve of the final struggle of the nonwinners, the Kid sat in grave consultation with Hopwood and Little Calamity and the rain drummed on the shingle roof of the tackle room.
"What price would Lucretia, or The Dutchman, be in with the same lot?" Langdon asked, argumentatively. "About one to ten," Crane replied. "But the Chestnut's beating them had no bearing on this race. From what I see of Mr. Dixon, I don't at all class him with you as a trainer he hasn't the same resource." Langdon stood silent, sullenly turning over in his mind this doubtful compliment.
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