Her mind was busy with the crippled rider.

Who was he?
Where was he from?
What strange passion he had shown over the recovery of that wonderful red horse! Lucy could not forget the feeling of his iron arm when he held her in a kind of frenzied gratitude.

A wild upland rider, living only for a wild horse! How like Indians some of these riders! Yet this fellow had seemed different from most of the uncouth riders she had known.

He spoke better.

He appeared to have had some little schooling.