d, and swallow the ripples
of mirth that came tickling in the throat. She knew perfectly well that
Satan would have it in the end, for of all living things not even Munner
had such power over Dan as the black stallion. He maneuvered adroitly.
First he circled the table and stood opposite the master, begging with
his eyes, but Dan looked fixedly down at the rock until an impatient
whinny called up his eyes. Then he pretended the most absolute surprise.

"Why, Satan, you old scoundrel, what are you doin' over there? Get back
where you belong?"

He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder and Satan glided around the
rock and stood once more behind Dan.

"Manners?" continued Dan. "You ain't got 'em. You'll be tryin' to sit
down at the table with me, pretty soon." He concluded: "But I'll teach
you one of these days, and you'll smart for a week."

Even at the mock menace Joan trembled a little, but to her astonishment
Satan paid not the slightest heed. Dan sat with his hat on his
head--which was a new and delightful event at the table--and now the
stallion took the hat by the crown, dexterously, and raised it just
an inch and put it back in place. Black Bart, having crept out of the
shadows sat down near Joan with his long red tongue lolling out. This
procedure called a growl from him, but the master continued eating
without the slightest interest, apparently, in Satan's insolence.

A velvety muzzle appeared, with the chin resting on the shoulder of Dan
and the great, luminous eyes above. He whinnied so softly that it was
not more than a human whisper, and meant almost as much.

"Oh," said Dan, in all seeming just roused to attention, "hungry, old
boy?"

He raised the morsel of "pone" between thumb and forefinger, holding it
tightly. Then it was a joy to watch Satan. He tried to tug it all away
at once, but only a fragment broke off. He stamped in impatience,
and then went to work to nibble the bread away on all sides of Dan's
fingers, very fine work for such broad, keen chisels as Satan's teeth,
but he went about it with the skill of long practice, turning his
head this way and that and always watching the face of the master with
sidewise eyes, one ear forward and one ear back. Finally the tight
fingers opened out, and Satan gathered the last crumbs from the smooth
palm.

Two or three times during this performance Black Bart had half risen
from his haunches and a growl swelled almost inaudibly in his throat,
but now