please, without his rearing
or backing or kicking."

"Son," said the _Villicus_, "you are either a lunatic or a demigod. Go in
and try what you boast you can do. Show us."

"Point out your stallion," I suggested.

He indicated a beautiful bay with a white face. He let me approach him at
my first attempt, let me take him by the nose, let me lead him close to my
dumbfounded audience, let me mount him. I rode him about, turning him to
right or left as the _Villicus_ ordered, at my suggestion. When I got off
I lifted each of his hoofs in succession, crawled under his belly, crawled
between his fore-legs, and then between his hind-legs, while the onlookers
held their breath; finally I stood behind him, slapped his rump and pulled
his tail.

"Is he broken?" I queried.

"Apparently he is gentle as a lamb to you," the _Villicus_ admitted, "but
how about the rest of us?"

"Bring in a saddle and bridle," I suggested, "and I'll bit him and hold
him while two of you saddle him and until one of you mounts him. He should
be no more dangerous than a roped filly."

They did as I suggested and I then rode him about until he appeared used
to the saddle and bit and already, at once, bridle-wise. Then one of the
wranglers rode him.

I gentled colt after colt all that day till sunset, with a very brief
pause for food and rest. Also I kept it up next day until mid-afternoon,
when the last colt had been tamed.

Then, as we stood breathing, one of the horse-wranglers suggested:

"Try him on Selinus."

"That would be plain murder," one of the others cried.

"I am not so sure," the _Villicus_ ruminated. "I am almost ready to feel
that he might even tame Selinus."

Off we trooped to the stable of the choice breeding-stallions. There, in a
darkened box-stall, I was shown a beautiful demon of a horse, four years
old, a sorrel, with a white face and white forefeet. He certainly looked
wicked enough.

"Will you try him?" the _Villicus_ asked me.

"Of course," I said. "Let him out into the yard or the paddock."

Into the paddock he was let out, by means of a door in his stall worked by
winches from above. In the afternoon sunlight he pranced and curvetted
about, a joy to see.

"Let me show Felix what he is like," one of the younger horse-wranglers
suggested.

"You can," the _Villicus_ agreed. "We all know how agile you are and how
quick at vaulting a fence."

The fellow vaulted into the paddock when Selinus was at its further