There he stood sharply defined, clear as a cameo, not a hundred paces from Slone.

It was Wildfire.
Slone uttered an involuntary cry.

Thrill on thrill shot through him.
Delight and hope and fear and despair claimed him in swift, successive flashes.

And then again the ruling passion of a rider held him--the sheer glory of a grand and unattainable horse.

For Slone gave up Wildfire in that splendid moment.