The Orpington--Jonah, Norah called him--was not inclined to race. He had
tugged furiously at his leg rope, with much outcry and indignation,
until Billy, finding himself alone, owing to the eccentric behaviour of
the other starters, had resorted to different tactics by no means devoid
of native cunning. Slackening the line, he suddenly produced from his
pocket a few grains of wheat, and spread them temptingly before Jonah.

Now Jonah was a tame bird. He was accustomed to being handled, and had
only been indignant at the disgrace of bonds. This new departure was
something he understood; so he gobbled up the wheat with alacrity and
looked up inquiringly for more.

"Right oh!" said Bffly, retiring a few steps down the track and bringing
out another grain. Jonah sprang after it, and then was dazzled with the
view of two lying yet a few yards farther off. So, feeding and coaxing,
black Billy worked his unsuspecting steed across the little paddock.

No one was near when he reached the winning post, to which he promptly
tied Jonah, and, his purpose being accomplished, and no need of further
bribery being necessary, sat down beside him and meditatively began to
chew the remainder of his wheat. Jonah looked indignant, and poked round
after more grains, an attention which Billy met with jeers and continued
heartless mastication, until the Orpington gave up the quest in digust,
and retired to the limit of his tether. Billy sat quietly, with
steadfast glittering eyes twinkling in his dusky face.

"Hallo!" It was Jim's voice. "Where are all the rest? D'you mean to say
you're the only one to get here?"