The black reared, snorted, came down and began to run
desperately across the level, desiring nothing so much now as to do the
bidding of the will which he had discovered to be superior to his own.
Betty watched in silence as horse and rider went over the level,
traveling in a dust cloud, and when they began to fade she turned to
Kelton. The latter was crestfallen, glum.
"Shucks," he said; "if I'd have thought he'd break the black devil he
wouldn't have got him for twice fifty dollars. He's sure a slick,
don't-give-a-damn buster."
Betty smiled mysteriously and went to look for Calumet's hat. Then,
riding Blackleg and leading the other horse, she went toward the Lazy Y.
It was dusk when she arrived, to be greeted by Dade and Bob. She saw
the black horse in the corral and she knew that Calumet had won the
victory, for the black's head dropped dejectedly and she had never seen
an animal that seemed less spirited. It did not surprise her to find
that Calumet looked tired, and when she came down stairs from changing
her dress and got supper for them all, she did not mention the incident
of the breaking of the black. Nor would he talk, though she was
intensely curious as to the motive which had prompted him to make her a
present of Blackleg. Was it an indication that he was feeling more
friendly to her, or had he merely grown tired of Blackleg?
The answer came to her late that night, after Calumet had retired.
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