n't believe in a thing."

"No, of course. But you've got to look at it this way, the world
moves, and horses haven't had an easy time. Perhaps it is their moment
of emancipation. And just for the sake of a sentiment, a tradition,
you can't afford to hold back."

"I can't afford to lose this chance if there is money in it. But it
isn't what I had planned."

As he sat there on the step and hugged his knees, every drop of blood
in Randy seemed to be urging "Hurry, hurry." He felt as a man might
who, running a race, finds another rider neck and neck and strains
towards the finish.

To sell cars in order to win Becky seemed absurd on the face of it.
But he would at least be doing something towards solving the problem of
self-support, and towards increasing the measure of his own
self-respect.

"What had you planned?" the Major was asking.

"Well of course there is the law---- And I like it, but there would be
a year or two before I could earn a living---- And I've wanted to
write----"

"Write what? Books?"

"Anything," said Randy, explosively, "that would make the world sit up."

"Ever tried it?"

"Yes. At school. I talked to a teacher of mine once about it. He
said I had better invent a--pill----"

The Major stared, "A pill?"

Randy nodded. "He didn't quite mean it, of course. But he saw the
modern trend. A poet? A poor thing! But hats off to the pillmaker
with his multi-millions!"

"Stop that," said the Major.

"Stop what?"

"Blaming the world for its sordidness. There is beauty enough if we
look for it."

"None of us has time to look for it. We are too busy trying to sell
cars to people who love horses."

II

In the end Randy got his car. And after that he, too, might have been
seen running shuttle-like back and forth over the red roads. Nellie
Custis was usually beside him on the front seat. She took her new
honors seriously. For generations back her forbears had loped with
flapping ears in the lead of a hunting pack. To be sitting thus on a
leather seat and whirled through the air with no need of legs from
morning until night required some readjustment on the part of Nellie
Custis. But she had always followed where Randy led. And in time she
grew to like it, and watched the road ahead with eager eyes, and with
her ears perpetually cocked.

Now and then Becky sat beside Randy, with Nellie at her feet. The
difference between a ride with Randy and one with George Dalt