"You mean, don't the wild horses wish that they could live in a fine stable, and have a lot of men to feed and take care of them, and rig them out with fancy, gold-mounted harness, and let them prance down the streets for the crowds to see?
No; horses have more sense than that.

It takes a human to make that kind of a fool of himself.

There's only one thing in the world that would make me want to try it, and I guess you know what that is." His last words robbed his answer of its sting, and she said gently, "You are bitter to-night, Phil.

It is not like you." He did not answer.
"Did something go wrong to-day ?" she persisted.
He turned suddenly to face her, and spoke with a passion unusual to him.
"I saw you at the ranch this afternoon--as you were riding away.

You did not even look toward the corral where you knew I was at work; and it seemed like all the heart went clear out of me.