Even the red stallion appeared enveloped in a glow.

And the looming monuments looked down upon her, paternal, old, and wise, bright with the color of happiness.
"Wildfire ought to have several more days' training--then a day of rest--and then the race," said Lucy, turning again to look at Slone.
A smile was beginning to change the hardness of his face.

"Yes, Lucy," he said.
"And I'll HAVE to ride him ?" "You sure will--if he's ever to beat the King." Lucy's eyes flashed blue.

She saw the crowd--the curious, friendly Indians--the eager riders--the spirited horses--the face of her father--and last the race itself, such a race as had never been ran, so swift, so fierce, so wonderful.
"Then Lin," began Lucy, with a slowly heaving breast, "if I accept Wildfire will you keep him for me--until ...

and if I accept him, and tell you why, will you promise to say--" "Don't ask me again!" interrupted Slone, hastily.