laughed in such an oddly pitched,
cracked tone that the wolf-dog slunk to him on his belly and licked the
dangling hand. He caught the scarred head of Bart and looked steadily
down into the eyes of the wolf.

"It was a close call, Bart. There wasn't more than half an inch between
Satan and--"

The black turned his head and whinnied feebly.

"Listen to him callin' for help like a new-foaled colt," said the
master, and went to Satan.

The head of the stallion rested on his shoulder as they went slowly on.

"Tonight," said the master, "you get two pieces of pone without askin'."
The cold nose of the jealous wolf-dog thrust against his left hind. "You
too, Bart. You showed us the way."

The rattle had left the breathing of Satan, the stagger was gone
from his walk; with each instant he grew perceptibly larger as they
approached the border of the wood. It fell off to a scattering thicket
with the Grizzly Peaks stepping swiftly up to the sky. This was their
magic instant in all the day, when the sun, grown low in the west, with
bulging sides, gave the mountains a yellow light. They swelled up larger
with warm tints of gold rolling off into the blue of the canyons; at the
foot of the nearest slope a thicket of quaking aspens was struck by a
breeze and flashed all silver. Not many moments more, and all the peaks
would be falling back into the evening.

It seemed that Satan saw this, for he raised his head from the shoulder
of the master and stopped to look.

"Step on," commanded Barry.

The stallion shook himself violently as a dog that knocks the water from
his pelt, but he took no pace forward.

"Satan!"

The order made him sway forward, but he checked the movement.

"I ask you man to man, Bart," said the master in sudden anger, "was
there ever a worse fool hoss than him? He won't budge till I get on his
back."

The wolf-dog shoved his nose again into Barry's hand and growled. He
seemed quite willing to go on alone with the master and leave Satan
forgotten.

"All right," said Barry. "Satan, are you comin'?"

The horse whinnied, but would not move.

"Then stay here."

He turned his back and walked resolutely across the meadow, but slowly,
and more slowly, until a ringing neigh made him stop and turn. Satan had
not stirred from his first halting place, but now his head was high and
his cars pricked anxiously. He pawed the ground in his impatience.

"Look there, Bart," observed the master gloomily. "Ther