"Yes."

"Well, I will not change his name. But, Al, how shall I ever
climb up on him? He's taller than I am. What a giant of a
horse! Oh, look at him--he's nosing my hand. I really believe
he understood what I said. Al, did you ever see such a splendid
head and such beautiful eyes? They are so large and dark and
soft--and human. Oh, I am a fickle woman, for I am forgetting
White Stockings."

"I'll gamble he'll make you forget any other horse," said Alfred.
"You'll have to get on him from the porch."

As Madeline was not dressed for the saddle, she did not attempt
to mount.

"Come, Majesty--how strange that sounds!--we must get acquainted.
You have now a new owner, a very severe young woman who will
demand loyalty from you and obedience, and some day, after a
decent period, she will expect love."

Madeline led the horse to and fro, and was delighted with his
gentleness. She discovered that he did not need to be led. He
came at her call, followed her like a pet dog, rubbed his black
muzzle against her. Sometimes, at the turns in their walk, he
lifted his head and with ears forward looked up the trail by
which he had come, and beyond the foothills. He was looking over
the range. Some one was calling to him, perhaps, from beyond the
mountains. Madeline liked him the better for that memory, and
pitied the wayward cowboy who had parted with his only possession