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but Harkaway had been brought ^home to me, any-
how. So I consolidated rny position by writing out
a cheque to Cosmo Gaffikin, Esq., there and then.
After that I erected an additional barrier against the
lawyer's attack on my liberties by settling down to a
steady perusal of Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour, which I
had brought up from the drawing-room. And while
I relished Mr. Sponge's desultory adventures 1 made
up my mind to go out with the Dumborough Hounds
as soon as I felt myself qualified to appear in public
on my exceptionally brilliant performer.

If Mr. Pennett could have prevented me from pur-
chasing Harkaway (or any other quadruped) he would
have done so. It was his mundane duty as my ex-
guardian and acting trustee. Nor can it be denied
that Dixon's loyalty to his profession required him to
involve me as inextricably as possible in all that
concerned the equine race. Dixon had emerged
victorious. A raw youth who refuses to read for the
Bar is persuaded by the family groom to buy a horse.
How tame it sounds! But there was a lot more in it
than thata statement which can be applied to many
outwardly trivial events in life when one takes the
trouble to investigate them. And while I am still at
the outset of my career as a fox-hunting man, I may
as well explain Dixon's method of collaborating with
me in my progress toward proficiency. When I made
my fresh start and began to ride the gallant old
chestnut about the wintry lanes I was inwardly awake
to the fact that I knew next to nothing about horses
and hunting and was an indifferent rider. And
Dixon knew it as well as I did. But his policy was to