The gray horse turned, hesitated, and then came straight to Connor, very slowly; there he bowed his head and dropped his muzzle on the knee of the white man, but all the while his eyes flared at the strange face in terror. Jacob turned a proud smile upon Ephraim, and the latter nodded. "It is a good colt," he admitted. "His heart is right, and in time he may grow to some worth." Once more Connor fumbled in his pocket. "Steady," he said, looking squarely into the great, bright eyes. "Steady, boy." He put his hand under the nose of the stallion. "It's a new smell, but little different." Abra snorted softly, but though he shook he dared not move. The gambler, with a side glance, saw the two men watching intently. "Ah," said Connor, "you have pulled against a headstall here, eh?" He touched an old scar on the cheek of the horse, and Abra closed his eyes, but opened them again when he discovered that no harm was done to him by the tips of those gentle fingers. "You may let him have his head again," said Connor. "He will not leave me now until he is ordered." "So?" exclaimed Jacob. "We shall see! Enough Abra!" The gray tossed up his head at that word, but after he had taken one step he returned and touched the back of the white man's hand, snuffed at his shoulder and at his hat and then stood with pricking ears. A soft exclamation came in unison from Jacob and Ephraim. "I have never seen it before," muttered Jacob. "To see it, one would say he was a son of Julanda." "It is my teaching and not the blood of Julanda that gives my horses manners," corrected Ephraim. "However, if I might look in the hand of the stranger--" "There is nothing in it," answered Connor, smiling, and he held out both empty palms. "All horses are like this with me." "Is it true?" they murmured together. "Yes; I don't know why. But you were going to bring Joseph." "Ah," said Ephraim, shaking his head. "I had almost forgotten. Hurry, Jacob; but if you will take my advice in the matter you will teach your colts fewer tricks and more sound sense." The other grunted, and putting his hand on the withers of Abra, he leaped to the back with the lightness of a strong youth. A motion of his hand sent the gray into a gallop that shot them through the gate into darkness. _CHAPTER NINE_ That faint and rhythmic chiming which Connor had heard from the mountain when he first saw the valley now came again through the gate, more clearly. There was something familiar about the sound--yet Connor could not place it. "Did you mark?" said Ephraim, shaking his head. "Did you see the colt shy at the white rock as he ran? In my household that could never happen; and yet Jacob does well enough, for the blood of Harith is as stubborn as old oak and wild as a wolf. But your gift, sir"--and here he turned with much respect toward Connor--"is a great one. I have never seen Harith's sons come to a man as Abra came to you."