horse's neck, "and we must go if we're to have that drive. Will you
hitch the gray to the buggy for us, Mike?" she asked of Gaynor, as they
came out of the stable, "we'll wait here."

As Mike started off there came to their ears a sound of turmoil from
Diablo's box; impatient kicks against the boards from the horse, and
smothered imprecations from the boy.

"Hear that fiend!" the girl exclaimed, and there was wrath in her voice.

"He does seem a bad horse," concurred Mortimer.

"I didn't mean Diablo; it's the boy. It's all his evil doing. Oh,
I've only one glove," she exclaimed. "I know where it is, though; that
mischievous rascal, Lauzanne, nibbled it from the front of my jacket; I
saw him do it, but forgot to pick it up."

"Allow me, Miss Porter; I'll get it for you."

"No; please don't!" with emphasis. As he started back, she laid a
detaining hand on his arm. "I'd much prefer to go myself; Lauzanne
distrusts strangers and might make trouble."

As the girl entered the stable, Mortimer sauntered on in the direction
Mike had gone.

Allis opened the door of Lauzanne's stall, passed in, and searched in
the straw for the lost glove.

X

The noise of strife in Diablo's box had increased. There came the sound
of blows on the horse's ribs; a muttered oath, and suddenly a scream of
terror from the boy, drowned in an instant by the ferocious battlecry
of the enraged stallion. Mortimer, thirty yards away, heard it, and felt
his heart stand still; he had never heard anything so demoniac in his
life. He turned in such haste that his foot slipped on the frozen earth,
and he fell heavily.

At the first sound of blows Allis had started angrily toward Diablo's
box. She was at the door when Shandy's cry of terror rang out. For an
instant the girl hesitated; what she saw was enough to make a strong man
quail. The black stallion was loose; with crunching jaws he had fastened
on the arm of Shandy, in the corner of the stall, and was trying to pull
the boy down that he might trample him to death. But for a second she
faltered; if ever quick action were needed, it was now.

"Back--back, Diablo! back!" she cried, as pushing past the black demon
she brought her hunting-crop down with full force between his ears.

Whether it was the sound of his mistress's voice, or the staggering
blow, Diablo dropped the boy like a crushed rat, and, half rearing,
looked viciously at the brave girl.

"Quick! through the hay window!" c