"Now, do mind what you're up to, Bob!" remonstrated Mrs. Hewett. "You'll find it on the mantel in the other room. Don't make such a noise."
The young man rushed forth, and in a moment returned. In his hand, which was very black, and shone as if from the manipulation of metals, he held a small bright medal. He showed it to Sidney, saying, "What d'you think o’ that?"
The work was delicate and of clever design; it represented a racehorse at fullspeed, a jockey rising in the stirrups and beating it with orthodox brutality.
"That’s ‘Tally-ho’ at the Epsom Spring Meetin'," he said. "I've got money on him!"
And, with another indifferent nod, he flung out of the room.
Before Mrs. Hewett and Kirkwood could renew their conversation, there was another step at the door, and the father of the family presented himself.
