"I know of only two men in Fairfax County I'd back to ride him." "Yourself and--" "My father." "By Jove! How old is your father, my good fellow ?" "Sixty, my good fellow," I replied.

He laughed.
"Well," said he, "there's a third in Fairfax can ride him." "Meaning yourself ?" He nodded carelessly.

I did not share his confidence.

"He's not a saddler in any sense," said I."We keep him for the farms." "Oh, I say, my friend," he rejoined--"my name's Orme, Gordon Orme--I'm just stopping here at the inn for a time, and I'm deucedly bored.

I've not had leg over a decent mount since I've been here, and if I might ride this beggar, I'd be awfully obliged." My jaw may have dropped at his words; I am not sure.