learner," he complimented. "I could see that you and
plows weren't on speaking acquaintance. But you took hold right. There
isn't one man in ten I could hire off the county road that could do as
well as you were doing on the third day. But your big asset is that you
know horses. It was half a joke when I told you to take the lines that
morning. You're a trained horseman and a born horseman as well."

"He's very gentle with horses," Saxon said.

"But there's more than that to it," Benson took her up. "Your husband's
got the WAY with him. It's hard to explain. But that's what it is--the
WAY. It's an instinct almost. Kindness is necessary. But GRIP is more
so. Your husband grips his horses. Take the test I gave him with the
four-horse load. It was too complicated and severe. Kindness couldn't
have done it. It took grip. I could see it the moment he started. There
wasn't any doubt in his mind. There wasn't any doubt in the horses. They
got the feel of him. They just knew the thing was going to be done and
that it was up to them to do it. They didn't have any fear, but just
the same they knew the boss was in the seat. When he took hold of those
lines, he took hold of the horses. He gripped them, don't you see. He
picked them up and put them where he wanted them, swung them up and down
and right and left, made them pull, and slack, and back--and they knew
everything was going to come out right. Oh, horses may be stupid, but
they're not altogether fools. They know when the proper horseman has
hold of them, though how they know it so quickly is beyond me."

Benson paused, half vexed at his volubility, and gazed keenly at
Saxon to see if she had followed him. What he saw in her face and eyes
satisfied him, and he added, with a short laugh:

"Horseflesh is a hobby of mine. Don't think otherwise because I am
running a stink engine. I'd rather be streaking along here behind a pair
of fast-steppers. But I'd lose time on them, and, worse than that, I'd
be too anxious about them all the time. As for this thing, why, it has
no nerves, no delicate joints nor tendons; it's a case of let her rip."

The miles flew past and Saxon was soon deep in talk with her host. Here
again, she discerned immediately, was a type of the new farmer. The
knowledge she had picked up enabled her to talk to advantage, and when
Benson talked she was amazed that she could understand so much. In
response to his direct querying, she told him her and Billy's pla