our years old and never had a bit in his
teeth. That's David Eden. The minute you see him you'll want to tame
him. But you'll have to go easy. Keep gloves on. He's as proud as a
sulky kid. Kind of a chap you can't force a step, but you could coax him
over a cliff. Why, he'd be thread for you to wind around your little
finger if you worked him right. But it wouldn't be easy. If he had a
single suspicion he'd smash everything in a minute, and he's strong
enough to tear down a house. Put the temper of a panther in the size of
a bear and you get a small idea of David Eden."

He was purposely making the task difficult and he saw that she was
excited. His own work with Ruth Manning was as difficult as hers would
be with David. The fickle color left her all at once and he found her
looking wistfully at him.

She returned neither answer, argument, nor comment. In vain he detailed
each step of her way into the Garden and how she could pass the gate.
Sometimes he was not even sure that she heard him, as she listened to
the silent voice which spoke against him. He had gathered all his energy
for a last outburst, he was training his tongue for a convincing storm
of eloquence, when Shakra, as though she wearied of all this human
chatter, pushed in between them her beautiful head and went slowly
toward Ruth with pricking ears, inquisitive, searching for those light,
caressing touches.

The voice of Connor became an insidious whisper.

"Look at her, Ruth. Look at her. She's begging you to come. You can have
her. She'll be a present to you. Quick! What's the answer!"

A strange answer! She threw her arms around the shoulder of the
beautiful gray, buried her face in the mane, and burst into tears.

For a moment Connor watched her, dismayed, but presently, as one
satisfied, he withdrew to the open air and mopped his forehead. It had
been hard work, but it had paid. He looked over the distant blue waves
of mountains with the eye of possession.

_CHAPTER TWENTY_

"The evil at heart, when they wish to take, seem to give," said Abraham,
mouthing the words with his withered lips, and he came to one of his
prophetic pauses.

The master of the Garden permitted it to the privileged old servant, who
added now: "Benjamin is evil at heart."

"He did not ask for the horse," said David, who was plainly arguing
against his own conviction.

"Yet he knew." The ancient face of Abraham puckered. "Po' white trash!"
he muttered. Now an