Bertie was so pleased with the result of his first speculation in horseflesh (though so far as he was concerned it was a pure fluke) that he must needs make another.

If he had picked up a second cab-horse at thirty or forty pounds he could not have gone far wrong; but instead of that he must needs go to Tattersall's and give nearly fifty for a blood mare rejoicing in the name of "Tickle-me-Quick," described as being "the property of a gentleman," and said to have won several country steeple-chases.
The moment I set eyes on the beast I saw she was a screw, "and vicious at that," as an American would have said.

But as she had been bought (without warranty) and paid for, I had to make the best of her.

Within an hour of the mare's arrival at Red Chimneys, I was on her back, trying her paces.
She galloped well and jumped splendidly, but I feared from her ways that she would be hot with hounds, and perhaps, kick in a crowd, one of the worst faults that a hunter can possess.
On the next non-hunting day I took Tickle-me-Quick out for a long ride in the country, to see how she shaped as a hack.

I little thought, as we set off, that it would prove to be her last journey, and one of the most memorable events of my life.
For a while all went well.