"You went past me like a bullet," he said.
"Oh, can't he run!" murmured Lucy.
"Could he beat the King to-day?"
Slone had asked that question every day, more than once.
"Yes, he could—to-day. I know it," replied Lucy. "Oh—I get so—so excited. I—I make a fool of myself—over him. But to ride him—going like that—Lin! it's just glorious!"
"You sure can ride him," replied Slone. "I can't see a fault anywhere—in him—or in your handling him. He never breaks. He goes hard, but he saves something. He gets mad—fierce—all the time, yet he WANTS to go your way. Lucy, I never saw the like of it. Somehow you an' Wildfire make a combination. You can't be beat."
"Do I ride him—well?" she asked, softly.
"I could never ride him so well."
"Oh, Lin—you just want to please me. Why, Van couldn't ride with you."
"I don't care, Lucy," replied Slone, stoutly. "You rode this horse perfect. I've found fault with you on the King, on your mustangs, an' on this black horse Sarch. But on Wildfire! You grow there."