"I thought as much," said the stranger, quietly. "The horse is very particular as to who handles him. I shall have to hold his foot, I suppose"; and with rather a scornful smile, as if the dislike of his horse to my master confirmed his own, he stepped up and held out a slender brown hand.
The horse lifted his foot, and gently dropped it on the outstretched palm. No bird ever settled more trustfully on its nest.
My master swore an oath or two by way of astonishment, and then, seizing his shoe, approached again. But the scene was repeated with even more violence on the part of the horse: he pranced, reared, shook his head, and snorted at the smith, who again drew off.
"I sha'n't get off to-night," murmured the stranger, impatiently.
"Let me try," I said. "Horses have their fancies, as well as people. He'll like me, may-be."
"May-be he will," laughed my master, hoarsely; "but you're not a boss at puttin' a shoe on. A dumb critter might take a shine to you, who's one of their kind." And again he laughed at his own wit.
"Step up and try," exclaimed the stranger, impatiently.
I grasped the leg firmly in my hand; the horse made no resistance, and I began my work.
"Well, seein' as you've made friends with the critter, I'll be the gainer and take a bit of supper," said my master, after a dogged stare. "Be sure you put it on strong, Sandy. I don't say as I'll charge any more, though I'd make a man pay for showin' he'd a spite agin me, let alone a dumb critter." And taking his hat from a peg, he walked off, leaving me, with the sparks flying from the forge, busy at the shoe, and the stranger, with one arm across the neck of the horse, watching me.
Ten minutes of silent work, and, as I loosened my grasp on the leg for a moment, I met the eye of the gentleman, who, I was conscious, had been watching me narrowly.