Never once did he speak, but Ruth felt that she could read words in the brightening, calm, and sudden shadows across his face.
Elijah accompanied the examination with a running-fire of comment.
"There is quality in those hoofs, for you! None of your gray-blue stuff like the hoofs of Tabari, say, but black as night and dense as rock. Aye, David, you may well let your hand linger down that neck. She will step freely, this Timeh of mine, and stride as far as a mountain-lion can leap! Withers high enough. That gives a place for the ligaments to take hold. A good long back, but not too long to carry a weight. She will not be one of your gaunt-bellied horses, either; she will have wind and a bottom for running. She will gallop on the third day of the journey as freely as on the first. And she will carry her tail well out, always, with that big, strong dock."
He paused a moment, for David was moving his hands over the hindlegs and lingering long at the hocks. And the face of Elijah grew convulsed with anxiety.
"Is there anything wrong with those legs?" murmured Ruth to Connor.
"Not a thing that I see. Maybe the stifles are too straight. I think they might angle out a bit more. But that's nothing serious. Besides, it may be the way Timeh is standing. What's the matter?"
She was clinging to his arm, white-faced.
"If that colt has to die I—I'll want to kill David Eden!"
"Hush, Ruth! And don't let him see your face!"
David moved back from Timeh and again folded his arms.