Chapter IV
“Daylight, boys! Day-li-ight———”
“Ut is Moody this toime,” cried Tod, and he waked with a snort. “Will ye be afther givin’ him to me, then, for I’m wantin’ to kill the ould head off him, sure?”
But it was Ted Douglas who roused them out headlong; who chased them with their gear to the yard, and clipped their feeding-time close at each end. At no hour was there give or take in Ted Douglas when work lay to hand. The boys knew and accepted this, and themselves gave tongue with him against a shirker. By this knowledge they read Ted’s curt words when Jimmie hauled his cob through the gate.
“You’re not wantin’ yer hoss this mornin’, Jimmie. Go an’ rake up sticks fur the fires.”
Then he flung himself into the leather, and gave the lead through the long dewy tussock that wiped the dried blood from the spur.
Scott took on six bets before the crowd had homed to the saddles. He believed indubitably that Ted would shield Jimmie this day and the next—and all the other days to come.
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