Aunt Lucretia stopped. I pulled up sharply. Eloise sat white with anger on her uncontrollable mount.
"Oh, don't be angry with him," said Aunt Lucretia. "You will have to go as he says."
Eloise touched him with her whip and he reared, leaping high into the air. I caught my breath when she came down firmly with him. He stood backing his ears at Jim. Again she urged him, again he refused. She brought her whip down sharply.
"Don't, Eloise," I cried, "he's dangerous."
Again he leaped high in the air, tossing his head.
Eloise slid down, white with anger. "Jack, put your saddle on him," she said quietly.
"I think we'd better," I said. "I'll ride him for you for a while. It's Jim. He'll never forget him."
"You have a sharp knife?" asked Eloise, after I had put my saddle on the horse. She took the reins in her hands. "No, no, I'll hold him. Don't put my saddle on your mare. Wait."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Eloise," said Aunt Lucretia, "you shan't get up on that horse again."