I've put a
glass of ammonia into the dye, to make it 'set' quicker. It--"
"Gee, but you're a wonder!" sighed the worshiping boy. "D'ye
s'pose I'll ever git to be as smart as you are?"
"It all depends on how you make use of your brains," returned
Higbam, complacently. "But I was some smarter than you to begin
with. I--"
"But--"
Higham went on, more briskly:
"I've got this bag to put over his head when I open the stall
door. That'll put him out of the biting business, till it's
peeled away from his jaws, after he's got a real good rubbing.
But he'll likely wriggle, a lot. And I'll need you to sit on his
head. Likewise to carry this bowl and the sponge, while I'm
opening the door and getting the bag over his head. Are you
game?"
"I sure am!" breathed the enraptured boy.
"Come 'long, then. The stuff's ready; and we don't want to waste
any time. Go ahead and see if there's anyone in that end of the
stable." Two minutes later, the pair groped their way through the
dense gloom, to Stall Five. They walked with exaggerated care;
though the roar of the storm would have deadened the sound of a
cavalry charge.
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