"Well, Mr. Godfrey, that's a lucky brother of yours, that Master
Dunsey, isn't he?"

"What do you mean?" said Godfrey, hastily.

"Why, hasn't he been home yet?" said Bryce.

"Home? no. What has happened? Be quick. What has he done with
my horse?"

"Ah, I thought it was yours, though he pretended you had parted
with it to him."

"Has he thrown him down and broken his knees?" said Godfrey,
flushed with exasperation.

"Worse than that," said Bryce. "You see, I'd made a bargain with
him to buy the horse for a hundred and twenty--a swinging price,
but I always liked the horse. And what does he do but go and stake
him--fly at a hedge with stakes in it, atop of a bank with a ditch
before it. The horse had been dead a pretty good while when he was
found. So he hasn't been home since, has he?"

"Home? no," said Godfrey, "and he'd better keep away. Confound
me for a fool! I might have known this would be the end of it."

"Well, to tell you the truth," said Bryce, "after I'd bargained
for the horse, it did come into my head that he might be riding and
selling the horse without your knowledge, for I didn't believe it