who was cleaning the bay. The young man stood gaping with wonder.

"Can I have this horse or not?" demanded Madelon. Her black eyes
flashed imperiously at Dexter Beers. Her small brown hand held the
halter of the old white with a grasp like steel.

"Dunno 'bout your drivin' that horse," said Dexter Beers. "'Fraid
you'll get run away with. Better take another."

"Isn't this horse the fastest you've got on a short stretch?"

"S'pose he is, but I dunno 'bout a woman's drivin' of him."

Madelon looked as if she were half minded to spring upon the back of
the old white and settle the matter summarily. She fairly quivered
with impatience.

"A woman who can drive David Hautville's roan can drive this horse,
and you know it," said she. She moved forward as she spoke, leading
the high-stepping old white, and Dexter Beers stood aside.

"Well, David Hautville's roan is nigh a match for this one," he
grunted, hesitatingly, "but then ye know your own better. Hadn't ye
better--"

But the old white was out of the stable at a trot, with Madelon
running alongside.

"Don't ye want a man to hitch him up?" Dexter Beers called after her;
but she was out of hearing.