"How can we plan it?" went on Lucy, impulsively. She had forgotten to withdraw her hands from his. "It must be a surprise—a complete surprise. If you came to the Ford we couldn't keep it secret. And Dad or Farlane would prevent me, somehow."
"It's easy. Ride out here as often as you can. Bring a light saddle an' let me put you up on Wildfire. You'll run him, train him, get him in shape. Then the day of the races or the night before I'll go in an' hide out in the sage till you come or send for Wildfire."
"Oh, it'll be glorious," she cried, with eyes like stars. "I know just where to have you hide. A pile of rocks near the racecourse. There's a spring and good grass. I could ride out to you just before the big race, and we'd come back, with me on Wildfire. The crowd always stays down at the end of the racecourse. Only the starters stay out there.... Oh, I can see Bostil when that red stallion runs into sight!"
"Well, is it settled?" queried the rider, strangely.
Lucy was startled into self-consciousness by his tone.
How strangely he must have felt. And his eyes were piercing.
"You mean—that I ride Wildfire?" she replied, shyly. "Yes, if you'll let me."
"I'll be proud."
"You're very good.... And do you think Wildfire can beat the King?"
"I know it."