"I think Mr. Marton is quite right," said Barry. "You cannot go on sharing all through your lives; it is absurd." "If I make a pile, Harry, you must agree to accept something from me," said Jack. "If my luck is out I will; but if I make sufficient for my wants, no," replied Harry. In the course of the week Barry Tuxford took Jack out to the stables, where his horses were kept, and he had a spin on Lucky Boy, a four-year-old bay, a great favourite of Barry's. Jack was delighted to be on the back of a thoroughbred again; it was far more to his taste than tossing about on a schooner, although he had enjoyed that for a time. He had, however, no desire to make another voyage at present. Lucky Boy was accompanied by Wanneroo, a bay, three years old, ridden by a black boy called Willie, who was clever at his work. The pair were attended by Onslow and Esperance. Joe Kirby, who trained for Barry Tuxford, watched Jack critically. He had not much faith in amateur riders, especially new chums, but he soon saw Jack Redland was a good way beyond the average. Lucky Boy, he thought, had never gone so well before, and this was the opinion of Willie, when he dismounted, and the black boy looked at Jack admiringly. Barry Tuxford was immensely pleased. He had no idea Jack could ride so well, and he thought Captain Seagrave was right when he said he was too good for pearl fishing. "It does a fellow good to get on the back of a decent horse again," said Jack, as he patted Lucky Boy's neck. "What do you think of him?" asked Barry. "A very good mover, not particularly fast, but I should think he was a good stayer." "He is, Mr. Redland," said Joe Kirby. "He can stay any distance, and over a couple of miles he would wear a faster horse than himself down." "I daresay you are right," replied Jack. "Has he won any races?" "A couple of minor handicaps at the Turf Club meeting, but no race of any value. He is generally in at a nice weight," said Barry. "He won a Welter, too," said Joe. "So he did, I forgot that. Carried ten seven, I think," said Barry. "I don't know what I weigh now," said Jack, "but I could easily go to scale at ten stone at home, and less if required." "Then you have ridden in England?" said the trainer, somewhat surprised. "Oh, yes, scores of times. I was almost at the top of the tree one year. I won a race at Lewes a few days before I sailed for Fremantle." "I thought you knew how to handle a horse when you threw your legs across Lucky Boy," replied Joe. "That's Dongara," said Barry, as a grey came along alone. "He's got a bit of a temper. Gives Joe a lot of trouble, I'm afraid; but we keep pegging away at him because we think there's something in him, and a clever man chose him for me in Sydney. He cost more than he's worth, I fancy, and he's had adventures; the beggar was ship-wrecked, and had to swim ashore." Jack glanced at the grey, and liked his appearance. "May I ride him?" he asked.