Angelica admitted to herself that some of the men rode pretty well, but not as well as some of the men rode at their out-of-door shows at home; and the tan-bark was not as good as turf. It was a large class, and after eight or ten had been shown, a striking-looking black mare came out of the line and started plunging and rearing toward the first jump. Her rider faced her at the bars, and she minced reluctantly forward. Just before they reached the wings the man struck her. She stopped short and whirled back into the ring. From the time the black mare appeared Angelica’s heart almost stopped beating. “I’m sure of it, I’m sure of it!” she gasped. “Three white feet and the star. Caroline,” she said, “that’s Lady Washington. He oughtn’t to strike her. He mustn’t!” “Hush, miss,” said Caroline. “We’ll be conspicuous.” The man was bringing the mare back toward the jump. As before, he used his whip, intending to drive her into the wings, and, as before, she stopped, reared angrily, wheeled about, and came back plunging. The man quieted her after a little, and turned her again toward the hurdle. It was his last chance. She came up sulkily, tossing her head and edging away from the bars. As he got near the wings he raised his whip again. Then the people in that part of the Garden heard a girl’s shrill, excited voice cry out: “You mustn’t hit her! Steady, Lady Washington! Drop your curb!” The black mare’s ears went forward at the sound of the voice. The young man on her back put down his uplifted whip and loosened the rein on the bit. He glanced around with an embarrassed smile, and the next instant he was over the jump, and the mare was galloping for the hurdle beyond. Suddenly Angelica became conscious that several thousand people were staring at her with looks of wonder and amusement. Caroline clutched her arm and dragged her away from the rail. The girl colored, and shook herself free. “I don’t care,” she said. “He shouldn’t have hit her. She can jump anything if she’s ridden right. I knew we’d find her,” she muttered excitedly. “I knew it!” Caroline struggled desperately through the crowd with her charge. “Whatever will Miss Cushing say!” she gasped. Angelica forgot the crowd. “I don’t care,” she said. “If Aunt Henrietta had ever owned Lady Washington she’d have done the same thing. And if you tell her I’ll pay you back. She’ll know that you let me leave my seat, and she told you not to.” This silenced Caroline. “There! He’s fussed her mouth again,” she went on. The black mare had refused, and was rearing at the jump next the last. The girl stood on tiptoe and watched impatiently for a moment. “There she goes,” she murmured, with a sigh. The judges had ordered the horse out.