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Then he was the kind
of a horse that did not have to be eternally watched. He was spirited and full
of life, eager to run, but when Farlane called for him to stand still he
obeyed. He was the kind of a horse that a child could have played around in
safety. He never kicked. He never bit. He never bolted. It was splendid to see
him with Farlane or with Bostil. He did not like Lucy very well, a fact that
perhaps accounted for Lucy's antipathy. For that matter, he did not like any
woman. If he had a bad trait, it came out when Van rode him, but all the
riders, and Bostil, too, claimed that Van was to blame for that.
"Thar, I reckon them stirrups is right," declared Farlane. "Now, Miss Lucy,
hold him tight till he wears off thet edge. He needs work."
Sage King would not kneel for Lucy as Sarchedon did, and he was too high for
her to mount from the ground, so she mounted from a rock. She took to the
road, and then the first trail into the sage, intending to trot him ten or
fifteen miles down into the valley, and give him some fast, warm work on the
return.


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