"Mindy!" exclaimed Cindy.
"What's the matter?" asked Mindy, who was happily stroking the pony's soft nose.
"That's Thunder, and he isn't supposed to like anyone!"
"He likes me," Mindy said. "Oh! Don't they remind you of birds?"
"Yes, they do! But Pete told me that, though they can start at a fast clip and keep it up long after a race horse would be winded, a race horse would beat any of them in a short sprint."
"I don't believe it," Mindy said. "I don't believe any other horse could even keep up with them."
"Except Daddy's Sunshine," Cindy said.
"Yes," Mindy agreed loyally, "Sunshine might."
Except for Thunder, who would let only Mindy touch him, they petted each pony in turn, stroked the draft horses, petted the ponies again, and Cindy asked Alec, "Wouldn't you just love to have one?"
"Sure would," Alec agreed, "but I'd rather have this work team. They could pull a plow for ten hours, then do it again the next day and the day after, and still come back for more."