O'Mara meanwhile was puzzled. Certain questions put to Dick the day before had satisfied him that the boy could ride! He whistled in astonishment when the message came to him that Dick's mount was to be the ancient Sergeant. He rubbed the horse down himself, and saddled him, still pondering the matter. There was something he did not understand.
The horses stood ready saddled, tied to a fence in the shade of a row of grevillea trees, when Dick came out after breakfast. He was aching to be in the saddle; the milkman's pony had been his one means of a ride during the long winter term at school, and he longed to feel the creak of the leather and the movement of a good horse under him again. Meeting a stable-boy, he stopped him.
The boy jerked his head towards the horses.
"Bay 'orse there, under the tree," he said casually; and added with a grin, "Look out 'e don't sling yer orf, mind."
"Right-oh," said Dick, grinning. He walked towards the horses; and it never occurred to him that the "bay 'orse under the tree" meant old Sergeant. That ornament to his species, with drooping head and slumbrous eye, was probably waiting to go on a station errand; he looked like it. But the boy's description equally applied to Agility, and Dick went over to him without hesitation.
The stirrups were too long, and he shortened them while Agility tried to walk round himself in a way that made it sufficiently clear that he was very fresh. He was a light bay, half thorough-bred; not more than fifteen hands in height and very compact. At the moment he was like a restless mass of steel springs enclosed in a satin skin. Dick slipped off his halter and talked to him for a moment, patting his neck. Then he put the reins gently over his head and was in the saddle with a movement so quick that the horse had not time to realise it.
It was just at that moment that Mr. Warner and Mr. Lester, with Merle beside them, came strolling across from the house. The big man was in the midst of a sentence when his eye fell on the line of horses, and he broke off with a startled exclamation.
"Good God--is O'Mara mad! That horse will throw the boy!"
"Where?--throw Dick?" Mr. Lester gave a little laugh. "Oh, I don't think so."