ng little mare, Tabari.
The forced smile with which she met the big man was a personal triumph
to the gambler.

"If you can win her under that handicap, David," he said softly to
himself, "you deserve her, and everything else you can get."

David helped her into the saddle on Tabari, and himself sprang onto the
pad upon Glani's back. They went out side by side.

It was a cool day for that season, and the moment the north wind struck
them David shouted softly and sent Glani at a rushing gallop straight
into the teeth of the wind. Tabari followed at a pace which Ruth, expert
horse-woman though she was, had never dreamed of. For the first time she
had that impression of which Ben Connor had spoken to her of the horse
pouring itself over the road without strain and without jar of smashing
hoofs.

Ruth let Tabari extend herself, until the mare was racing with ears flat
against her neck. She had even an impression that Glani, burdened by the
great weight of David, was being left behind, but when she glanced to
the side she saw that the master half a length back, was keeping a
strong pull on the stallion, and Glani went smoothly, easily, with
enormous strides, and fretting at the restraint.

She gained two things from that glance. The first was a sense of
impatience because the stallion kept up so easily; in the second place,
the same wind which drove the long hair of David straight back blew all
suspicious thoughts out of her mind. She drew Tabari back to a hand
gallop and then to a walk with her eyes dimmed by the wind of the ride
and the blood tingling in her cheeks.

"It was like having wings," she cried happily as David let the stallion
come up abreast.

"Tabari is sturdy, but she lacks speed," said the dispassionate master.
"When she was a foal of six months and was brought to me for judgment, I
thought twice, because her legs were short. However, it is well that she
was allowed to live and breed."

"Allowed to live?" murmured Ruth Manning.

"To keep the line of the gray horse perfect," said David, "they must be
watched with a jealous eye, and those which are weak must not live. The
mares are killed and the stallions gelded and sold."

"And can you judge the little colts?"

Her voice was too low for David to catch a sense of pain and anger in
it.

"It must be done. It is a duty. To-day is the sixth month of Timeh, the
daughter of Juri. You shall witness the judging. Elijah is the master."

His face harde