She had for years wanted to see a horse--and ride a horse--out in front of Sage King.

Then suddenly all these flashing ideas coruscated seemingly into a gleam--a leaping, radiant, wonderful thought.

Irresistibly it burst from her.
"Let ME ride your Wildfire in the great race ?" she cried, breathlessly.
His response was instantaneous--a smile that was keen and sweet and strong, and a proffered hand.

Impulsively Lucy clasped that hand with both hers.
"You don't mean it," she said.

"Oh, it's what Auntie would call one of my wild dreams! ...