“My dear sir,” said the Major, “as I was saying to Lady Withers, your horses may be very good horses in their own place in America, but they are not at all according to English ideas.” “At the same time,” observed Mr. Carteret with some heat, “I noticed that you are riding one of them.” The Major looked at him in amazement. “I ride an American horse! What do you mean, sir?” he demanded. “The chestnut horse,” began Mr. Carteret, with a gesture toward the upper stable. “The chestnut horse,” said the Major, “I bought at Tattersalls three days ago. I know nothing about him except that he was quite the image of Prince Royal, a great sire that I once owned.” “That is hardly surprising,” said Mr. Carteret; “Prince Royal is his father. I’m certain about it because he’s marked with our Prince Royal brand.” The Major and Lady Withers looked at Mr. Carteret, and then at each other. Their eyes seemed to say, “We must humor this person until attendants from the madhouse can be brought to secure him.” “Perhaps,” said Lady Withers, “you would care to see _your_ horses.” “I should like to see the other one,” he answered stubbornly, and they went into the stable. Lady Withers paused before a box-stall which was boarded up to the ceiling. She cautiously opened the upper half of the door, and peered through the grating. Inside was a strange, thick-shouldered, goose-rumped, lop-eared brown creature covered with shaggy wool. It stood on three legs, and carried its head low like a member of the cat family. “To me,” said Lady Withers, “it looks like a bear; but I am assured that it is a horse. I would advise you not to go near it. This is the one that bit dear Cecil.” The two Americans gazed in amazement. “A charming type of hunter!” observed Lady Withers. Mr. Carteret made no reply. He was trying to think it out, but was making no headway. While thus engaged his eyes wandered down the stable passage, and he saw one of his own grooms approaching. Almost anything was pleasanter than contemplating the creature in the box-stall, so he watched the man approach. “I beg pardon, sir,” said the man, “but the butler sent me to find you, sir, with a telegram that came just after you had left.” Mr. Carteret tore open the envelop and read the message, which was a long one. As he finished a slight sigh escaped him. “This may interest the Major,” he observed, “and possibly explain various things.” He handed the despatch to Lady Withers, who opened her lorgnette and began to read it to the Major. Police have Jim Siddons, one of our horse foremen. Has been drunk for week. Confesses he sold your horses at auction, but don’t know where. Believes he shipped you two outlaws. “Smallpox,” brand, “arrow V,” and “Hospital,” brand, “bar O.” Hospital dangerous horse. Killed three men. Look out. Very sorry. REILLY. “Who is Reilly?” asked Lady Withers.