His heart-beats quickened, a new warmth commenced to steal through his veins, a new faith in self welled up from his innermost depths, making his pulses sharp and hard, making his muscles swell, sending his spirit up and up.
He had fought his first big fight and he had won!
Blood began to drip from the stallion's nose.
"It's where I struck you!" whispered VB, the triumph all gone again, solicitation and a vast love possessing him. "It's where I struck you, Captain. Oh, it hurts me, too—but it must be so, because things are as they are. There will be more hurts, boy, before we're through. But it must be!"
His voice gritted on the last.
Sounds from behind roused VB, and he looked around.
The sunlight was going even from the ridge up there, and the whole land was in shadow. He was a long way from the ranch with this trophy—his, but still ready to do battle at the end of his rope.
"Got one?" a man cried, coming up, and VB recognized him as one of the trio of fence builders, riding back to their camp.
"Yes—one," muttered VB, and turned to look at the Captain.
Then the man cried: "You've got th' Captain!"