mahogany brown. I'm so disappointed."

She singled out a pair of dark bays, feeding together: "Those are two
of Guy Dillon's get--brother, you know, to Lou Dillon. They're out of
different mares, not quite the same bay, but aren't they splendidly
matched? And they both have Guy Dillon's coat."

She moved her subdued steed on, skirting the flank of the herd quietly
in order not to alarm it; but a number of colts took flight.

"Look at them!" she cried. "Five, there, are hackneys. Look at the
lift of their fore-legs as they run."

"I'll be terribly disappointed if you don't get a prize-winning four-
in-hand out of them," Dick praised, and brought again the flash of
grateful eyes that hurt Graham as he noted it.

"Two are out of heavier mares--see that one in the middle and the one
on the far left--and there's the other three to pick from for the
leaders. Same sire, five different dams, and a matched and balanced
four, out of five choices, all in the same season, is a stroke of
luck, isn't it?"

She turned quickly to Mr. Hennessy: "I can begin to see the ones that
will have to sell for polo ponies--among the two-year-olds. You can
pick them."

"If Mr. Mendenhall doesn't sell that strawberry roan for a clean
fifteen hundred, it'll be because polo has gone out of fashion," the
veterinary approved, with waxing enthusiasm. "I've had my eye on them.