Layson, himself a great horse lover, went up to the shaggy little beast
and petted him. The pony knew a friend instinctively and rubbed his nose
against the rough sleeve of his jacket while he munched the turnip.

Madge stooped and lifted the poor beast's crippled foot.

"Looks bad, don't it?" she said anxiously, asking Frank's opinion as an
expert.

He looked the bad foot over carefully and shook his head.

"Madge, I am afraid it does," said he. "But wait until the Colonel
comes. He'll tell you what to do. No man knows horses better than the
Colonel does.

"I've never told you of my horse, have I?" he asked.

"Why, no; you got one, too?"

He drew a long breath of enthusiasm at the mere thought of his greatest
treasure. "Such a mare," said he, "as rarely has been seen, even in
Kentucky. She's famous now and going to be more so. She's the very apple
of my eye."

The girl looked at him wide-eyed with a fascinated interest. "What color
is she?"

"Black as night."

"And gentle?"