And Lucy, her temper quelled, began to feel the rider's strength, his mastery of the situation, and something vague, yet splendid about him that hurt her.
Slone strode toward her.

Lucy backed against the cedar-tree and could go no farther.

How white he was now! Lucy's heart gave a great, fearful leap, for she imagined Slone intended to take her in his arms.

But he did not.
"When you ride--Wildfire in that--race he'll be--YOURS!" said Slone, huskily.
"How can that be ?" questioned Lucy, in astonishment.
"I give him to you." "You--give--Wildfire--to me ?" gasped Lucy.
"Yes.

Right now." The rider's white face and dark eyes showed the strain of great and passionate sacrifice.
"Lin Slone! ...