uelty and power and unfairness.
What he did not see was the long pin in the man's hand. Each time he
thrust this in the pony's shoulder, the pony, stung by the pain and
reflex action, lifted its head, and the man was deftly ready to meet the
pony's mouth with his own mouth. To an audience the impression would be
that in such fashion the pony was expressing its affection for the
master.

Not a dozen feet away another Shetland, a coal-black one, was behaving as
peculiarly as it was being treated. Ropes were attached to its forelegs,
each rope held by an assistant, who jerked on the same stoutly when a
third man, standing in front of the pony, tapped it on the knees with a
short, stiff whip of rattan. Whereupon the pony went down on its knees
in the sawdust in a genuflection to the man with the whip. The pony did
not like it, sometimes so successfully resisting with spread, taut legs
and mutinous head-tossings, as to overcome the jerk of the ropes, and, at
the same time wheeling, to fall heavily on its side or to uprear as the
pull on the ropes was relaxed. But always it was lined up again to face
the man who rapped its knees with the rattan. It was being taught merely
how to kneel in the way that is ever a delight to the audiences who see
only the results of the schooling and never dream of the manner of the
schooling. For, as Michael was quickly sensing, knowledge was here
learned by pain. In short, this was the college of pain, this Cedarwild
Animal School.

Harris Collins himself nodded the dark youth-god up to him, and turned an
inquiring and estimating gaze on Michael.

"The Del Mar dog, sir," said the youth-god.

Collins's eyes brightened, and he looked Michael over more carefully.

"Do you know what he can do?" he queried.

The youth shook his head.

"Harry was a keen one," Collins went on, apparently to the youth-god but
mostly for his own benefit, being given to thinking aloud. "He picked
this dog as a winner. And now what can he do? That's the question. Poor
Harry's gone, and we don't know what he can do.--Take off the chain."

Released Michael regarded the master-god and waited for what might
happen. A squall of pain from one of the bears across the ring hinted to
him what he might expect.

"Come here," Collins commanded in his cold, hard tones.

Michael came and stood before him.

"Lie down!"

Michael lay down, although he did it slowly, with advertised reluctance.

"Damned thorou