“He 's not for sale.” He turned away.
“Oh, nonsense! Here; wait——”
“I would not sell him to you, sir, at any price. Good-morning.” He moved on.
“You 've lost a good horse,” said his friend.
“Oh, I 'll get him yet!”
“I don't think so,” said Colonel Ashland, who, with his daughter on his arm, had come up to congratulate the young rider.
“I wish I might have won for you,” said the young man to Miss Ashland. His cap was in his hand and he made the same quaint bow that he had made before.
“I think you did win; at least, you ought to have had it. My father says he is a great horse.”
At the words the color mounted to his sunburned cheeks. “Thank you,” he said, and looked suddenly deep into her eyes.
She put out her hand to pet the horse, and he turned and rested his head against her. She gave an exclamation of delight.