A few minutes later a move was made for our own country, and as we were jogging along I found myself near Jim Rawlings.
"That's a fresh hoss you've got, I think, sir," he said.
"Yes, I have ridden him two or three times with the harriers; but this is the first time I have had him out with fox-hounds." "He carried you very well in the run, sir." "You are quite right; he did.

Very well." "Does he lay hold on you at all, Mr.Bacon ?" "Not a bit." "Light in the mouth, a clever jumper, and a free goer." "All three." "Yes, he's the right sort, he is, sir; and if ever you feel disposed to sell him, I could, may be, find you a customer." Accepting this as a delicate intimation that Mr.Fortescue had taken a fancy to the horse and would like to buy him, I told Jim that I was quite willing to sell at a fair price.
"And what might you consider a fair price, if it is a fair question ?" asked the man.
"A hundred guineas," I answered; for, as I knew that Mr.Fortescue would not "look at a horse," as Tawney put it, under that figure, it would have been useless to ask less.
"Very well, sir.

I will speak to my master, and let you know." Ranger, as I called the horse, was a purchase of Alston's.

Liking his looks (though Bertie was really a very indifferent judge), he had bought him out of a hansom-cab for forty pounds, and after a little "schooling," the creature took to jumping as naturally as a duck takes to water.

Sixty pounds may seem rather an unconscionable profit, but considering that Ranger was quite sound and up to weight, I don't think a hundred guineas was too much.