“You may fix my bath now—think I'll retire. O Jim!” he called, “see that Antar, the stallion, is securely stalled. You know how dangerous he is.”

He was just dozing off when the front door closed with a bang.

Then a metal whip handle thumped heavily on the floor and the jingling of a spur rattled over the hall floor, as Harry Travis boisterously went down the hall, singing tipsily,