ally increasing his speed and taking the
gate apparently without effort. Don Mike watched to see the girl rise
abruptly in her seat as the horse came down on the other side of the
gate. But no! She was still sitting down in the saddle, her little
hands resting lightly on the horse's neck; and while Farrel watched her
in downright admiration and her mother sat, white and speechless on the
black mare, Kay galloped ahead a hundred yards, turned, and came back
over the gate again.

"Oh, isn't he a darling?" she cried. "He pulls his feet up under him
like a dog, when he takes off. I want to take him over a seven-foot
hurdle. He can do it with yours truly up. Let's build a seven-foot
hurdle to-morrow and try him out."

"Fine! We'll build it," Don Mike declared enthusiastically, and Parker,
watching his wife's frightened face, threw back his head and laughed.

"You are encouraging my daughter to kill herself," the older woman
charged Farrel. "Kay, you tomboy, do not jump that gate again! Suppose
that horse should stumble and throw you."

"Nonsense, mother. That's mere old hop-Scotch for Panchito. One doesn't
get a jumping-jack to ride every day, and all I've ever done has been to
pussyfoot through Central Park."

"Do you mean to tell me you've never taken a hurdle before?" Don Mike
was scandalized. She nodded.

"She'll do," Parker assured him proudly.

Farrel confirmed this verdict with a nod and opened the gate. They rode
through. Kay waited for him to close the gate. He saw that she had
been, captivated by Panchito, and as their glances met, his smile was a
reflection of hers--a smile thoroughly and childishly happy.

"If you'd only sell him to me, Don Mike," she pleaded. "I'll give you a
ruinous price for him."

"He is not for sale, Miss Kay."

"But you were going to give him away to your late battery commander!"

He held up his right hand with the red scar on the back of it, but made
no further reply.

"Why will you not sell him to me?" she pleaded. "I want him so."

"I love him," he answered at that, "and I could only part with him--for
love. Some day, I may give him to somebody worth while, but for the
present I think I shall be selfish and continue to own him. He's a big,
powerful animal, and if he can carry weight in a long race, he's fast
enough to make me some money."

"Let me ride him in the try-out," she pleaded. "I weigh just a hundred
and twenty."

"Very well. To-morrow I'