The livery was the best in Plymouth. The large cobbled yard was ringed with open stable doors, each with an horse peering out inquisitively at the visitors. They asked for the best, for money was no object, and as a consequence only the finest of the horses was presented to them. The choice narrowed down to four, two blacks, two greys, all Thoroughbreds. They were ridden, they were exercised on the long rein, they were jumped over poles, fences and log piles until.... One of the men slipped from the saddle of the tall black Anglo Arab thoroughbred and, coming to the head of the restless...