on the horse's mane, said very sternly a few words, which were
utterly unintelligible to his human listeners, though they certainly
exerted a magical influence over the fiery creature, who, savage as
the pampered pets of Diomedes, soon stood tranquil and contented,
rubbing his head against his master's shoulder. Repelled by the rude
harshness of this man, Edna walked into the shop, and watched the
silent group outside, until the work was finished and Mr. Hunt threw
down his tools and wiped his face.

"What do I owe you?" said the impatient rider, springing to his
saddle, and putting his hand into his vest pocket.

"I charge nothing for 'such trifles' as that."

"But I am in the habit of paying for my work."

"It is not worth talking about. Good day, sir."

Mr. Hunt turned and walked into his shop.

"There is a dollar, it is the only small change I have." He rode up
to the door of the shed, threw the small gold coin toward the
blacksmith, and was riding rapidly away, when Edna darted after him,
exclaiming, "Stop, sir! you have left your shawl!"

He turned in the saddle, and even under the screen of her calico
bonnet she felt the fiery gleam of his eyes, as he stooped to take
the shawl from her hand. Once more his fingers touched his hat, he
bowed and said hastily: