Eileen closed her mouth grimly and stared angrily ahead. She drew several slow deep breaths, before she trusted herself to say with ominous calmness: “I feel terrible about disappointing you, Reggie, but if you don’t stop talking like a drunken fool I’ll stop this car and throw you out into the road.”
REGGIE laughed contentedly. In all the years he had known Eileen Ravenal she had never indicated any definite emotion toward him. Her attitude had always been friendly, casual and indifferent. And now she was angry, blazingly angry at him. He felt he was making strides. At least she was feeling something toward him, even if it was only homicidal rage.
“No you won’t,” he grinned. He settled back comfortably and lit a cigarette. “I hate to think of dear old Guy’s disappointment,” he said musingly. “After all he does love you in his crude fashion.”
“Guy Mannering loves me with all the love a civilized man feels toward the woman of his choice,” Eileen said stiffly. “He is a gentleman, a sportsman and thoroughly dependable and respectable. He is all the things you’re not, Reggie, and that’s why you envy and despise him,” she finished bitingly.
“Guy Mannering is a pompous, stuffy fool,” Reggie said calmly. “Just because he has spent the better part of his adult life on the back of a horse, is no indication of his sterling qualities. It simply proves that he is, at heart, lazy.”
Eileen turned on him and the car almost ran off the road.
“A little left rudder, please,” Reggie said anxiously.
The girl straightened the car with one furious snap of the wheel.
“I won’t have you talking about Guy that way,” she cried. “He rides because he loves horses.”
Reggie shook his head emphatically and flipped his cigarette away.
“If he loved horses,” he said with quiet logic, “he’d let them rest and graze instead of running the poor beasts into the ground.”
Eileen started to reply but then she shook her head helplessly and there were angry tears in her eyes.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” she said. “I’ve always thought you were a friend of mine, and I just can’t understand the way you’re acting.
“I’m acting this way because I love you and I don’t want to see you unhappy,” Reggie said. “And if you marry Guy you won’t be happy.”
“I’m the best judge of that,” Eileen flared. “I intend to live my own life without any suggestions from you, Reginald Thorndyke.”
She swung the wheel as they came to an arched driveway and turned the car into a winding lane that led to a great white house that looked like something out of Gone With The Wind.
“We’ll be meeting father and Guy in a few minutes,” Eileen said, “and I wish you would forget all of this foolishness you’ve been talking.”
“Dear Guy and dear father,” Reggie sighed. “Two rays of sunshine wasting their gleam in the storm of life.” He shuddered slightly. “Does your father still get up at five in the mining and wake the neighborhood with his threats to shoot the grooms if the horses aren’t ready?”
“If you don’t like my father,” Eileen said coldly, “you can—”
“I’m sorry,” Reggie said hastily. “I really love the old bear dearly, you know that.”
“You don’t sound like it,” Eileen said.
“I’m undemonstrative,” Reggie said. “Well, when you meet don’t talk to him like you have been to me. You know he never liked you, and he might do something drastic if he ever had to think seriously of you as a son-in-law. And Guy wouldn’t be too happy about it either. He might just forget his good manners and run you off the grounds if he thought you were still serious about me.”
“Everybody is against the idea, but the two who really count,” Reggie smiled. He patted her hand tenderly. “But we don’t mind, do we, honey? As long as we understand each other, the rest of the world can go to blazes.” Eileen stopped the car in front of the house with an angry jerk.
“Will you please shut up!” she cried. “You become more wife-like every minute, my sweet,” Reggie beamed.
CHAPTER III
REGGIE followed Eileen into a vast cool room that was lined with books and furnished with heavy rugged furniture. There was an immense fireplace at one end of the room and the opposite wall was covered with a life-size print of a thoroughbred gelding.
Everything in the room was of huge dimensions and the gray-haired man who sat before the fireplace was no exception. His shoulders were about three feet wide and his great snowy head was like something carved on the side of a mountain.
He turned as his daughter entered the room and then he climbed slowly to his feet as he saw Reggie.
“Hello, my dear,” he said to Eileen, as she stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. He patted her shoulder with a hand that was like a quarter of beef. His eyes met Reggie’s over her head. “Oh,” he said, “It’s you, is it?”
He didn’t exactly frown, but on the other hand his expression was far from that of the hearty, welcoming host. The corners of his mouth turned down and his gray eyes were chilly in the ruddy tan of his face.
“Yes,” Reggie said, shifting from one foot to the other, “it’s me, all right.”
“Hmmmmph,” Colonel Ravenal said. He turned to his daughter. “Guy called,” he said, in his heavy rumbling voice. “Said he’d be right over.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Eileen said, and Reggie noticed with pleasure that there was a cool edge to her voice. “Did he bother to explain why he broke our date last night?”
“Yes, he did,” Colonel Ravenal said. “One of his mares was foaling and he couldn’t get away.”
Reggie grinned at Eileen.
“It’s new, anyway,” he said. “Sitting up all night with a sick horse, instead of a sick friend. I didn’t think Guy had that much imagination.”
The colonel glanced suspiciously from his daughter to Reggie.
“And what was the meaning of that remark, may I inquire?” he asked.
Reggie was saved the problem of replying by the arrival of a very blond, deep-chested young man in riding clothes, who strode into the room, exuding hearty good health from every pore.
“Eileen, my dear,” he exclaimed, slapping her cheerfully on the back. “I told your father why I couldn’t make our date last night. But the stables has another fine colt and I guess that’s worth it. Right!”
“Of course,” Eileen said. She moved her shoulders experimentally and winced. “You remember Reggie, don’t you, Guy?”
Guy Mannering swung about and extended his hand to Reggie with a wide, many-toothed grin.
“But of course!” he cried. “How are you, old sock?”
He raised one hand but Reggie backed out of reach.
“Fine, thanks,” he said. He didn’t intend to be hospitalized by any effusive back-slapping.
“I suppose you’re down for the big occasion,” Guy said, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Yes, that’s the general idea,” Reggie said. “When is the announcement coming off?”
“Sunday night,” the gentleman sportsman beamed. “We’re having a dinner after the big race.” He turned eagerly to the colonel. “And how’s Blue Star behaving?”
Colonel Ravenal’s craggy face lighted reverently.
“Magnificent,” he breathed.
“Fine!” Guy cried. He swung about and slapped Eileen resoundingly on the back. “Hear that, dear? Blue Star is in magnificent shape.”
“I just heard father say so,” Eileen said drily, readjusting her shoulder.
THE young sportsman swung back to Reggie with an athletic bound. He moved as if he were on steel springs. Reggie found it exhausting to watch him.
“I suppose you’ve heard about the big race? I’m riding the colonel’s Blue Star in the twenty-five thousand dollar Regalia meet Sunday afternoon.” He beamed expansively and hooked his thumbs in his leather vest. “Sunday night should be quite an occasion,” he said, grinning complacently. “It isn’t
every man who celebrates two triumphs in one night.”
“You’re pretty sure of winning, then?” Reggie said.
“A horse race is always an uncertain affair,” the gentleman jockey said with a solemn frown, “but I think this one will go to Blue Star without a doubt.”
Reggie caught Eileen’s eye and said, “Oh, I wasn’t talking about the horse race.”
He smiled politely at the expression of doubt that spread over the young man’s face.
“But I don’t think I get you,” he said, looked puzzledly at Eileen, “you mean—”
“Let’s all have a drink,” Eileen said quickly. She hooked her arm through her fiancé’s and glared icily at Reggie. “Some of us need something else to do with our mouths,” she said meaningly.
“Splendid idea,” the young sportsman said. “Shall I fix them, darling?”
“If you would, please,” Eileen smiled gratefully at him.
“Right!”
He left the room with long strong strides, and when he returned the conversation had drifted to other channels.
“I was just telling young Thorndyke that he’d better get a good night’s rest,” Colonel Ravenal said, as he helped himself to a drink. He grinned wickedly at Reggie. “We still ride every morning at five,” he said. “And I’ll instruct the grooms to select a nice lively horse for you.”
Reggie shuddered slightly. He knew what the colonel meant by a “lively” horse. Undoubtedly a four-legged son of Satan that no one had succeeded in breaking. He grinned weakly.
“Great sport,” he muttered.
“Reggie knows quite a lot about horses,” Eileen said sweetly. “He talked about horses all the way in from the station. And he doesn’t think good riding is very difficult. He thinks the ability to ride a horse well is greatly overrated.” She smiled maliciously at Reggie. “Don’t you, Reginald?”
COLONEL RAVENAL put his glass down firmly.
“So you think it doesn’t take anything to handle a horse, eh?” he barked.
“Well, I didn’t exactly say that,”
Reggie began, “but—” He stopped in mid-sentence as he suddenly realized that he was deserting his new character. He squared his shoulders.
“Riding a horse is like riding a rocking chair,” he said emphatically, “and just about as difficult. Any man who has the advantage of a brain should be ashamed to admit that a poor, unreasoning horse presents a problem in mastery.”
“Is that so?” Mannering said angrily. “Well we’ll see how well you do tomorrow morning.”
Reggie stared at him with an amused smile.
“Yes, you’ll see,” he said.
“I have never met a horse I couldn’t handle,” Mannering said, “but only because I have ridden all my life and have devoted all my time to the study of horsemanship. It isn’t something a man earns overnight, it takes years of work and practise. I think you’ll appreciate that fact after tomorrow morning. I didn’t become the foremost amateur jockey in the State without learning a few things about horses and men. And I’ll wager that after you ride tomorrow you’ll admit that the time I’ve spent learning to ride hasn’t been wasted.”
Colonel Ravenal turned away and there was a reflective smile on his face.
“Yes,” he said, “I think Reggie may learn quite a bit tomorrow morning.”
CHAPTER IV
THERE were only a few faint streaks of dawn on the eastern horizon when Reggie entered the vast stables of the colonel the following morning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, and when the butler called him, he had been staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, wondering just what was going to happen to him when he climbed aboard his horse for the morning’s ride.
Nothing pleasant, he felt sure. He had ridden only a few times in his life, and he always thought it was a silly way to spend one’s time. And he had always been careful in his selection of horses. He liked sway-backed, lumbering creatures that looked nostalgically at passing milk wagons and dumped along in a gentle rocking motion at about two miles an hour. That was his idea of riding. If the rest of the world wanted to risk their necks on snorting, wild-eyed bundles of TNT that was their business.
He prowled moodily about the stables, with his coat pulled about his neck against the sharp morning air. He was hungry and sleepy and cold. And the realization that he would be subjected to an entire morning of Guy Mannering’s offensive vitality was almost nauseating.
Two grooms were standing in front of a stall watching a great black stallion that was rearing and kicking on the inside. Reggie sidled up beside them and watched the mighty efforts of the horse as it sought to kick down a side of the stable.
One of the grooms nodded cheerfully to him.
“Morning, sir. Tiger’s got his wind up a bit. But he’ll quiet down after a few miles at a stiff run. Just has to have some of the ginger worked out of him.”
“I see,” Reggie said weakly. “Tiger, eh? Good name for him, I’d say.”
The groom chuckled. “That’s what everyone says. He’s got a mean streak in him, all right. Almost bit a groom’s arm off last month. Kicked another last week and just about killed the poor fellow. But the colonel likes ’im in spite.”
“He would,” Reggie thought moodily. He watched the red, rolling eyes of the horse for a moment and an involuntary shudder tickled his spine. “I suppose the colonel rides this creature?” he asked.
“Not on your life,” the groom said. “He wouldn’t dare. Tiger’d be dangerous for the colonel, even though he is a great horseman. It needs a young man to handle Tiger.”
“Oh,” Reggie said, “I suppose Mr. Mannering rides him then.”
“Nope, we’re gettin’ him ready for the colonel’s guest, a young fellow from out of town. Haven’t seen this feller but he must be quite a rider to take on Tiger.”
Reggie felt his stomach grow cold. This was the horse the colonel had selected for him! This snorting, red-eyed killer! There could be no doubt of that.
“Where you going, young feller?” the groom asked.
“Out,” Reggie said, hurrying toward the rear door of the stable.
He cursed himself for a fool for having gotten himself into this spot. If he hadn’t started bragging yesterday he wouldn’t be in this mess. And if he backed out, the colonel and Mannering would never stop laughing at him.
His jaw set grimly. He would just have to steel himself to that laughter, for nothing in this world would convince him to risk his neck on Tiger. The very idea was unnerving.
LEAVING the stable, he hadn’t any idea where he could go and hide until the rest of the party got started. He felt strangely sick and nervous and he thought longingly of the warm bed he had deserted. But if he went back to the house he knew they would find him and insist that he ride. So he kept walking until he found a comfortable looking haystack about a hundred yards from the stable. It looked like just what he wanted.
He stretched out gratefully and closed his eyes, but almost immediately he felt a sudden strange convulsion inside him, and a blinding attack of dizziness started his head spinning wildly. The spell lasted for several moments and when it subsided he was weak and trembling.
He put his hands to his forehead and when he did he received an unnerving shock. For instead of the palms of his hands meeting his brow he felt two hard round objects pressing against his forehead. He opened his eyes in amazement and saw two huge hooves directly before his eyes.
“Well I’ll be damned!” he cried.
These words formed in his mind, his tongue moved accordingly, but no sound passed his lips. The only thing he heard was something that sounded like the surprised neigh of a horse.
He moved his arms and the two hooves moved away from his forehead, and then he saw that they were attached to his wrists, and that his wrists were covered with smooth brown hair.
He closed his eyes for an instant and prayed that his sanity wouldn’t desert him at this critical moment. With something of a seventh son’s intuition he knew what happ
ened. His thoughts flitted wildly back to the little man he’d met at the bar, the potion he had drunk to change his character and the peculiar memory he’d had of acting like a dog immediately after drinking that potion.
There was no doubt in his mind what had occurred. Reggie was too smart to doubt the evidence of his senses. He opened his eyes slowly and stared down at his body.
Yes, it had happened.
He was a horse!
CHAPTER V
REGGIE scrambled to his feet and tossed his long mane frantically. What was he going to do? Obviously, the potion the little man had given him had in some weird way back-fired, and instead of changing him into another human personality, it had changed him into a horse.
That was obvious. He was a horse. A well-formed, good-looking, white-stockinged brown horse, but still a horse. And what in hell was he supposed to do?
He recalled with a fleeting feeling of relief that the transition to a dog hadn’t apparently been permanent. He had, overnight, changed back to his human self. But it might take longer to change back from a horse. A horse was bigger and the transition stood logically to be a bigger job. It might take weeks.
He shuddered and neighed despairingly. How was he going to win back Eileen in this form? He was standing irresolutely by the haystack when one of the grooms appeared at the door of the stable.
“Well I’ll be danged,” the groom said, staring at Reggie unbelievingly, “how’d you get out of your stall?” Reggie was at a loss to explain the situation. Even if he had been able to talk he would have a hard job convincing the groom that he was actually one of the house guests and not part of the colonel’s live stock.
The groom came to his side and slipped a leather tether over his head.
Reggie shook his head in annoyance, but it did no good.
“Come along, boy,” the groom said, patting him on the shoulder. “I don’t know where you come from, but you don’t belong out here.”
Collected Fiction (1940-1963) Page 214