ay.

"Good girl!" cried Vic, in involuntary approbation. He ran a few steps.
The noose slid up and out, opened in a shaky loop, and swooped down. Too
late the gray saw the flying danger, for even as she swerved the riata
fell over her head, and she came to a snorting halt with all fours
planted, skidding through the grass. The first thing a range horse
learns is never to pull against a rope.

A few minutes later she was getting the "pitch" out of her system, as
any self-respecting cattle horse must do after a session of pasture and
no work. She bucked with enthusiasm and intelligence, as she did all
things. Sun-fishing, sun-fishing is the most deadly form of bucking, for
it consists of a series of leaps apparently aimed at the sun, and the
horse comes down with a sickening jar on stiff front legs. Educated
"pitchers" land on only one foot, so that the shock is accompanied by
a terrible sidewise, downward wrench that breaks the hearts of the best
riders in the world. Grey Molly was educated, and Mrs. Pym stood in
the doorway with a broad grin of appreciation on her red face, she knew
riding when she saw it. Then, out of the full frenzy, the mare lapsed
into high-headed, quivering attention, and Gregg cursed her softly, with
deep affection. He understood her from her fetlocks to her teeth. She
bucked like a fiend of revolt one instant and cantered like an angel of
grace the next; in fact she was more or less of an equine counterpart of
her rider.

But now he heard shrill voices passing down the street and he knew that
school was out and that he must hurry if he wanted to ride home with
Betty, so he waved to Mrs. Pym and cantered away. For over two days he
had been rushing towards this meeting; all winter he had hungered for
it, but now that the moment loomed before him he weakened; he usually
did when he came close to the girl. Not that her beauty overwhelmed
him, for though she had a portion of energetic good-health and freckled
prettiness, he had chosen her as an Indian chooses flint for his steel;
one could strike fire from Betty Neal. When he was far away he loved
her without doubt or question and his trust ran towards her like a river
setting towards the ocean because he knew that her heart was as big and
as true as the heart of Grey Molly herself. Only her ways were fickle,
and when she came near, she filled him with uneasiness, suspicion.

Chapter III. Battle

On the road he passed Miss Brewster--for the A