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Dgment most men, so attired, looked supremely ridiculous. It

was not so with Mr. Silver. It may be that his absolute lack of self-consciousness distracted attention from his costume.

It may be that he was so real himself that he dominated his artificial habiliments. Certainly his strong, clean face, his short, crisp hair, and pleasant, booming

voice possessed and

pleased the girl. "You'd better be off, or you'll have the Duke down on you," said Mrs. Woodburn. "Dad's gone an hour since," said Boy. She led
the way swiftly down long stone
passages out into the yard. He followed, his
eyes on that shining bunch of hair before him. The yard looked deserted. The fan-tails strutted vaingloriously; Maudie lay in the sun on the stable
wall; and Billy Bluff's kennel was

empty. "Hullo, where's Bill?" cried the young man. "Some i diot's let him off his chain," grumbled the girl. "Just like them. A hunting morning." A great gray horse, led by little
Jerry, was feeling his way through the stable-door.
Banjo stood seventeen hands or
over, but he was
all quality.
His long neck was hog-maned; and his Roman nose
and sober colour gave him an air of wisdom and experience

which a somewhat frivolous character belied. Young Lollypop, a brown three-year-old, followed demurely behind. For all his sixteen hands, he looked a mere stripling beside the gray; but he was far too tall for the
girl to mount without assistance.

Stanley went for a bucket, but before he could return Silver had shot the girl into
the saddle, and stood a moment looking up a

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