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You're better--not badly hurt?" she said, gravely, "I--I'm
so glad."
"I've got a crimp in my back, that's all."
Lucy was quick to see that after the first glance at her he was all eyes for
Sage King. She laughed. How like a rider! She watched him, knowing that
presently he would realize what a horse she was riding. She slipped off and
threw the bridle, and then, swiftly untying the second pack, she laid it down.
The rider, with slow, painful steps and bent back, approached Sage King and
put a lean, strong, brown hand on him, and touched him as if he wished to feel
if he were real. Then he whistled softly. When he turned to Lucy his eyes
shone with a beautiful light.
"It's Sage King, Bostil's favorite," said Lucy.
"Sage King! . . . He looks it. . . . But never a wild horse?"
"No."
"A fine horse," replied the rider. "Of course he can run?" This last held a
note of a rider's jealousy.
Lucy laughed. "Run! . . . The King is Bostil's favorite. He can run away from
any horse in the uplands."
"I'll bet you Wildfire can beat him," replied the rider, with a dark glance.


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