. She passed them by with sharp
glances.

A man whose face was purplish red with cold was out in the rear of
the stable, rubbing down a restive bay with loud "whoas," and now and
then a stronger word and a hard twitch at the halter. He looked
curiously at Madelon as she walked up to one of the stalls.

"Better look out for them heels!" he called out, as she drew nearer.
She paid no heed, but went straight into the stall, untied the horse,
and began to back him out. "Hi, there!" the man shouted, and Dexter
Beers and the young man came hurrying up. "Better look out for that
gal--I believe she's gone crazy!" he called out. "I can't leave this
darned beast--she'll get kicked to death if she don't look out. That
old white won't stan' a woman in the stall. Whoa, there! whoa, darn
ye! Stan' still!"

"Hullo, what ye doin' of?" demanded Dexter Beers, coming up.

Madelon calmly backed the horse out of his stall. "I want to hire
this horse," said she, holding his halter with a firm hand.

"That horse?"

"Yes. I'll pay you whatever you ask."

Dexter Beers stared at her and the horse dubiously. "Jest as soon set
a woman to drivin' the devil as that old white," volunteered the man
who was cleaning the bay. The young man stood gaping with wonder.

"Can I have this horse or not?" demanded Madelon. Her black eyes
flashed imperiously at Dexter Beers. Her small brown hand held the
halter of the old white with a grasp like steel.

"Dunno 'bout your drivin' that horse," said Dexter Beers. "'Fraid
you'll get run away with. Better take another."

"Isn't this horse the fastest you've got on a short stretch?"

"S'pose he is, but I dunno 'bout a woman's drivin' of him."

Madelon looked as if she were half minded to spring upon the back of
the old white and settle the matter summarily. She fairly quivered
with impatience.

"A woman who can drive David Hautville's roan can drive this horse,
and you know it," said she. She moved forward as she spoke, leading
the high-stepping old white, and Dexter Beers stood aside.

"Well, David Hautville's roan is nigh a match for this one," he
grunted, hesitatingly, "but then ye know your own better. Hadn't ye
better--"

But the old white was out of the stable at a trot, with Madelon
running alongside.

"Don't ye want a man to hitch him up?" Dexter Beers called after her;
but she was out of hearing.

"If the gal's ekal to drivin' that horse, she's ekal to hitchin' of
him up," said the man