zona," he said.

"Glenn, I'm a faithful creature. You should be glad of that. I love New
York."

"Very well, then. Arizona to New York," he said, lightly brushing her
cheek with his lips. And swerving back into his saddle, he spurred his
horse and called back over his shoulder: "That mustang and Flo have
beaten me many a time. Come on."

It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley.
Had he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity? Always there
was a little rift in the lute. Had his tone and look meant that Flo
might catch him if Carley could not? Absurd as the idea was, it spurred
her to recklessness. Her mustang did not need any more than to know she
wanted him to run. The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green
foliage and overspread by pines. In a moment she was racing at a speed
she had never before half attained on a horse. Down the winding road
Glenn's big steed sped, his head low, his stride tremendous, his action
beautiful. But Carley saw the distance between them diminishing. Calico
was overtaking the bay. She cried out in the thrilling excitement of the
moment. Glenn saw her gaining and pressed his mount to greater speed.
Still he could not draw away from Calico. Slowly the little mustang
gained. It seemed to Carley that riding him required no effort at all.
And at such fast pace, with the wind roaring in her ears, the walls of
green vague and continuous in her sight, the sting of pine tips on cheek
and neck, the yellow road streaming toward her, under her, there rose
out of the depths of her, out of the tumult of her breast, a sense of
glorious exultation. She closed in on Glenn. From the flying hoofs of
his horse shot up showers of damp sand and gravel that covered Carley's
riding habit and spattered in her face. She had to hold up a hand before
her eyes. Perhaps this caused her to lose something of her confidence,
or her swing in the saddle, for suddenly she realized she was not riding
well. The pace was too fast for her inexperience. But nothing could have
stopped her then. No fear or awkwardness of hers should be allowed to
hamper that thoroughbred mustang. Carley felt that Calico understood
the situation; or at least he knew he could catch and pass this big bay
horse, and he intended to do it. Carley was hard put to it to hang on
and keep the flying sand from blinding her.

When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to
breast with Glenn