Dick Francis - For Kicks

I tore the page up, my mouth twisting. Duty. That was just about enough to make me lose my temper. It was not from any sense of duty that I stayed at Humber's to endure a minor version of slavery. It was because I was obstinate, and liked to finish what I started, and although it sounded a bit grandiose, it was because I really wanted, if I could, to remove British steeple chasing from Adams' clutches. If it had been only a matter of duty I would have repaid October his money and cleared out.

"It is your duty to keep us informed of the position."

He was still angry with me about Patty, I thought morosely, and he wrote that sentence only because he knew I wouldn't like it.

I composed my report.

"Your humble and obedient servant regrets that he was unable to carry out his duty last week by keeping you informed of the position.

"The position is still far from clear, but a useful fact has been ascertained. None of the original eleven horses will be doped again:

but a horse called Six-Ply is lined up to be the next winner. He is now owned by Mr. Henry Waddington, of Lewes, Sussex.

"May I please have the answers to the following questions:

"I. Is the powder in the enclosed twist of paper soluble phenobarbitone?

'2. What are in detail the registered physical characteristics of the racehorses Chin-Chin, Kand- ersteg, and Starlamp?

'3. On what date did Blackburn, playing at home, beat Arsenal? "

And that, I thought, sticking down the envelope and grinning to myself, that will fix him and his duty.

Jerry and I gorged ourselves at the cafe. I had been at Humber's for five weeks and two days, and my clothes were getting looser.

When we could eat no more I went back to the post office and bought a large-scale hiker's map of the surrounding district, and a cheap pair of compasses. Jerry spent fifteen shillings on a toy tank which he had resisted before, and, after checking to see if my goodwill extended so far, a second comic for me to read to him. And we went back to Humber's.

Days passed. Mickey's drugged water acted satisfactorily, and I was able to clean his box and look after him without much trouble. Cass took the second bandage off, revealing an equal absence of red paste.

However, the wounds gradually started healing.

As Mickey could not be ridden and showed great distress if one tried to lead him out along the road, he had to be walked round the yard for an hour each day, which exercised me more than him, but gave me time to think some very fruitful thoughts.

Humber's stick landed with a resounding thump across Charlie's shoulders on Tuesday morning, and for a second it looked as though Charlie would hit him back. But Humber coldly stared him down, and the next morning delivered an even harder blow in the same place.

Charlie's bed was empty that night. He was the fourth lad to leave in the six weeks I had been there (not counting the boy who stayed only three days) and of my original half dozen dormitory companions, only Bert and Jerry remained. The time was getting perceptibly closer when I would find myself at the top of the queue for walking the plank.

Adams came with Humber when he made his usual rounds on Thursday evening. They stopped outside Mickey's box but contented themselves with looking over the half-door.

"Don't go in, Paul," said Humber warningly.

"He's still very unpredictable, in spite of drugs."

Adams looked at me where I stood by Mickey's head.

"Why is the gipsy doing this horse? I thought it was the moron's job."

He sounded angry and alarmed.

Humber explained that as Mickey had bitten Jerry, he had made me change places with him. Adams still didn't like it, but looked as if he would save his comments until he wouldn't be overheard.

He said, "What is the gipsy's name?"

"Roke," said Humber.

"Well, Roke, come here, out of that box."

Humber said anxiously, "Paul, don't forget we're one lad short already."

These were not particularly reassuring words to hear. I walked across the box, keeping a wary eye on Mickey, let myself out through the door, and stood beside it, drooping and looking at the ground.

"Roke," said Adams in a pleasant sounding voice, 'what do you spend your wages on? "

"The never-never on my motor-bike, sir."

"The never-never? Oh, yes. And how many instalments have you still to pay?"

"About er fifteen, sir."

"And you don't want to leave here until you've finished paying them off?"

"No, sir."

"Will they take your motor-cycle away if you stop paying?"

"Yes sir, they might do."

"So, Mr. Humber doesn't need to worry about you leaving him?"

I said slowly, unwillingly, but as it happened, truthfully, "No, sir."

"Good," he said briskly.

"Then that clears the air, doesn't it. And now you can tell me where you find the guts to deal with an unstable, half-mad horse."

"He's drugged, sir."

"You and I both know, Roke, that a drugged horse is not necessarily a safe horse."

I said nothing. If there was ever a time when I needed an inspiration, this was it: and my mind was a blank.

"I don't think, Roke," he said softly, 'that you are as feeble as you make out. I think there is a lot more stuffing in you than you would have us believe. "

"No, sir," I said helplessly.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

He stretched out his hand to Humber, and Humber gave him his walking stick. Adams drew back his arm and hit me fairly smartly across the thigh.

If I were to stay in the yard I had got to stop him. This time the begging simply had to be done. I slid down the door, gasping, and sat on the ground.

"No sir, don't," I shouted.

"I got some pills. I was dead scared of Mickey, and I asked the chemist in Posset on Saturday if he had any pills to make me brave, and he sold me some, and I've been taking them regular ever since."

"What pills?" said Adams disbelievingly.

"Tranquil something he said. I didn't rightly catch the word."

"Tranquillizers."

"Yes, that's it, tranquillizers. Don't hit me any more sir, please sir. It was just that I was so dead scared of Mickey. Don't hit me any more, sir."

"Well I'm damned," Adams began to laugh.

"Well I'm damned. What will they think of next?" He gave the stick back to Humber, and the two of them walked casually away along to the next box.

"Take tranquillizers to help you out of a blue funk. Well, why not?"

Still laughing, they went in to see the next horse.

I got up slowly and brushed the dirt off the seat of my pants. Damn it, I thought miserably, what else could I have done? Why was pride so important, and abandoning it so bitter?

It was more clear than ever that weakness was my only asset. Adams had this fearful kink of seeing any show of spirit as a personal challenge to his ability to crush it. He dominated Humber, and exacted instant obedience from Cass, and they were his allies. If I stood up to him even mildly I would get nothing but a lot of bruises and he would start wondering why I stayed to collect still more. The more tenaciously I stayed, the more incredible he would find it. Hire purchase on the motor-bike wouldn't convince him for long. He was quick. He knew, if he began to think about it, that I had come from October's stables. He must know that October was a Steward and therefore his natural enemy. He would remember Tommy Stapleton. The hyper-sensitivity of the hunted to danger would stir the roots of his hair. He could check and find out from the post office that I did not send money away each week, and discover that the chemist had sold me no tranquillizers. He was in too deep to risk my being a follow-up to Stapleton; and at the very least, once he was suspicious of me, my detecting days would be over.

Whereas if he continued to be sure of my utter spinelessness he wouldn't bother about me, and I could if necessary stay in the yard up to five or six weeks more. And heaven forbid, I thought, that I would have to.