youthful malevolence of his unbroken mustang. For a moment he
dwelt regretfully on the lazy half-developed sinews of his son; for
a briefer instant there flashed across him the thought that those
sinews ought to replace his own; ought to be HIS to lean upon--that
thus, and thus only, could he achieve the old miracle of restoring
his lost youth by perpetuating his own power in his own blood; and
he, whose profound belief in personality had rejected all
hereditary principle, felt this with a sudden exquisite pain. But
his horse, perhaps recognizing a relaxing grip, took that
opportunity to "buck." Curving his back like a cat, and throwing
himself into the air with an unexpected bound, he came down with
four stiff, inflexible legs, and a shock that might have burst the
saddle-girths, had not the wily old man as quickly brought the long
rowels of his spurs together and fairly locked his heels under
Buckeye's collapsing barrel. It was the mustang's last rebellions
struggle. The discomfited brute gave in, and darted meekly and
apologetically forward, and, as it were, left all its rider's
doubts and fears far behind in the vanishing distance.


CHAPTER V


Meanwhile, the subject of Dr. West's meditations was slowly making
his way along the high-road towards the fonda. He walked more
erect and with less of a shuffle in his gait; but whether this was
owing to his having cast the old skin of garments adapted to his
slouch, and because he was more securely shod, or whether it was
from the sudden straightening of some warped moral quality, it
would have been difficult to say. The expression of his face