he danger of pressing too hard upon this
instinct or blind faith. He swallowed an oath, and answered, remembering
dim lessons out of his childhood:

"Tell me, David, my brother, is there no fire to burn fools? Is there no
rod for the shoulders of the proud? Should not such men be taught?"

"And I say to you, Benjamin," said the master of the Garden: "what wrong
have these fools done to me with their folly?"

Connor felt that he was being swept beyond his depth. The other went on,
changing his voice to gentleness:

"No, no! I have even a kindness for men with such blind faith in their
horses. When Jacob comes to me and says privately in my ear: 'David,
look at Hira. Is she not far nobler and wiser than Ephraim's horse,
Numan?' When he says this to me, do I shake my head and frown and say:
'Risk the clothes on your back and the food you eat to prove what you
say.' No, assuredly I do neither of these things, but I put my hand on
his shoulder and I say: 'He who has faith shall do great things; and a
tender master makes a strong colt.' In this manner I speak to him,
knowing that truth is good, but the whole truth is sometimes a fire that
purifies, perhaps, but it also destroys. So Jacob goes smiling on his
way and gives kind words and fine oats to Hira."

Connor turned the flank of this argument.

"These men are blind. You say that your horses can run a mile in such
and such a time, and they shrug their shoulders and answer that they
have heard such chatter before--from trainers and stable boys. But you
put your horse on a race track and prove what you say, and they pay for
knowledge. Once they see the truth they come to value your horses. You
open a stud and your breed is crossed with theirs. The blood of Rustir,
passing through the blood of Glani, goes among the best horses of the
world. A hundred years from now there will be no good horse in the
world, of which men do not ask: 'Is the blood of Glani in him? Is he of
the line of the Eden Grays?' Consider that, David!"

He found the master of the Garden frowning. He pressed home the point
with renewed vigor.

"If you live in this valley, David, what will men know of you?"

"Have you come to take me out of the Garden of Eden?"

"I have come to make your influence pass over the mountains while you
stay here. A hundred years from now who will know David of the Garden of
Eden? Of the men who used to live here, who remains? Not one! Where do
they live now? Inside your