He was surprised to see the stranger staring toward the gate as if he watched a ghost. "He did not gallop," said Connor presently, and his voice faltered. "He flowed. He poured himself through the air." He swept a hand across his forehead and with great effort calmed the muscles of his face. "Are there more horses like that in the valley?" Ephraim hesitated, for there was such a glittering hunger in the eyes of this stranger that it abashed him. Vanity, however, brushed scruple away. "More like Abra in the valley? So!" He seemed to hunt for superlatives with which to overwhelm his questioner. "The worst in my household is Tabari, the daughter of Numan, and she was foaled lame in the left foreleg. But if ten like Abra were placed in one corral and Tabari in the other, a wise man would give the ten and take the one and render thanks that such good fortune had come his way." "Is it possible?" exclaimed Connor in that same, small, choked voice. "I speak calmly," said Ephraim gravely. He added with some hesitation: "But if I must tell the whole truth, I shall admit that my household is not like the household of the blood of Rustir. Just as she was the queen of horses, so those of her blood are above other horses as the master is above me. Yet, if ten like Tabari were placed in one corral and the stallion Glani were placed in another, I suppose that a wise man would give the ten for the one." He added with a sigh: "But I should not have such wisdom." Connor smiled. "And at that rate it would require a hundred like Abra to buy Glani?" he asked. "A thousand," said the old man instantly, "and then the full price would not be paid. I have already asked the master to cross him with Hira. He will answer me soon; one touch of Glani's blood will lift the strain in my household. My colts are good mettle--but the fire, the soul of Glani!" He bowed his head. "Ah, they are coming, Jacob and Joseph." His keen ear heard a sound which was not audible to Connor for several moments; then two gray horses swept into the circle of the firelight, and from the mare which led Abra by several yards, a huge Negro dismounted. "If you are Joseph," the gambler said, "I suppose Jacob has already told you about me. My name is Connor. I've been hunting up the Girard River, struck across the mountains yonder, and here I've brought up with a lame mule and a lamer horse. The point is that I want to rest up in your valley until my animals can go on. Is it possible?" While he spoke the giant watched him with eyes which squinted in their intensity, but when he ended Joseph answered not a word. Connor remembered now what he had heard of the deaf mute who alone went back and forth from the Garden of Eden, and his heart fell. It was talking to a face of stone.