“Do you love him?”
“Not—now. I did—but now I hate him! Let me down!”
The groom approached and dismounted to obey this demand; but Steenie wheeled sidewise, so that Kinks could look his stable-mate squarely in the face.
“Not yet, little girl. He’s beautiful, and you ought to want to ride him. Why don’t you?”
“I’m afraid.”
“You needn’t be. Something made him angry; then he ran away. He’s ashamed now.”
“Ashamed? Why, how do you know?”
“He says so, plain enough. See here, Kinksey, hold up your head. Look at your little lady an’ tell her you’re sorry.”
To the astonishment of every on-looker the little bareheaded stranger coolly seized the gray’s forelock and pulled his head backward, so that his eyes could be seen; and laughing softly, but lovingly, she maintained his position till his owner leaned forward and satisfied her own curiosity.
“Why—it is so! He does look as if he wanted to hide!”