"You'll want all your nerve to-morrow," said Dick to Picton. "There's three of my horses to ride, and two of 'em are brutes." "Thanks," said Picton, smiling; "a pleasant prospect. Worth coming all these miles for, isn't it, Ben?" "Depends upon what Langford calls a brute," replied Ben. "Pitcher's not so bad; he's what I call a humorous horse, full of pranks and no vice about him. He's number one. Now we come to the first brute, Planet, a gelding with a temper; as likely as not he'll try and pitch you into the crowd." "Then he ought to have been named Pitcher," said Picton. "We don't all get our right names, I mean names that fit; we're saddled with 'em by unthinking parents. Sis has a maid, Evangeline Mamie; now that's what I call a big handicap for the girl," said Dick. They laughed, and Picton asked him to pass on to number two brute. "The Rascal," said Dick; "he's a terror. He's lamed a couple of my chaps, and Pete's right when you're in the saddle, but it's a deuce of a job to get there. He rises on his hind legs, and conducts an imaginary band with his fore legs, but he's got a rare turn of speed, and he ought to win the West of England Handicap Steeplechase to-morrow, and the Torbay and South Devon Steeplechase the next day." "Then you expect to bring off the double with him?" said Picton. "Yes, and if you do not, Sis says she'll never speak to you again." "Then I'll do it if I die in the attempt," said Picton. "Don't be heroic, no one wants you to die. You can kill The Rascal if you like, but promise me to come off unscathed," said Dick, laughing. "I'll try," said Picton. "Pitcher ought to win the Maiden Hurdle Race, and Planet the St. Marychurch Hurdle Race. Now you have a nice little program mapped out for you, and I fancy you'll win the four events. If you do, it will be a day for rejoicing at Torwood, and the wearer of the pink jacket will be an honored guest if he cares to desert the _Sea-mew_ for my humble abode." "Dick, you're incorrigible," said Picton, laughing. "You really expect to win four races?" "I do; Gordon won the lot at a meeting not far away on one occasion." "That's quite possible--he's a good rider." "So are you." "He is," said Ben; "few better." "What are you doing to-day?" asked Dick. "Nothing in particular; basking in the sunshine in your glorious bay." "Then you like Torquay?" said Dick. "Who could help liking it? And what a county lies behind it! I envy you the Devonshire lanes, Dick." "Then come and live among them. I can pick you an ideal spot, and it shall be well within your means, Mr. Millionaire." Picton laughed. "No millions here--a few thousands," he said; "just sufficient to keep my head above water." "And the _Sea-mew_ afloat," said Dick. "I'll manage that," said Ben. "Will you come ashore and have a look at Pitcher and the two brutes?" said Dick. "What do you say, Ben? Shall we?" asked Picton.