He sawed away at the horse's mouth with no mercy. Bucephalus was enraged. He could hardly understand the presumption of the rider, who was daring enough to defy him to his worst. He was accustomed to inspire fear in his rider, and his spirit was up. He indulged in worse antics, when he was astonished and maddened by a terrible lashing from the whip in Gilbert's hand. He started off like a shot at a break-neck speed down the road which Gilbert wanted him to take. In his fury he was not probably aware that he had yielded that point to his master. On he rushed with the speed of lightning. Terror-struck, Jasper, sitting still on his own horse, followed him with his glance. He saw Gilbert, immovable as a rock, keeping his seat on the maddened steed, never for a moment losing courage or self-possession. He was astonished, but he could not help feeling admiration also. "He rides magnificently," he said to himself. "Who would have supposed that he could manage that brute?" But there was one thing that Jasper did not know--which I have not yet imparted to the reader. Gilbert had taken lessons of Rarey, the famous horse-tamer, and that gave him a wonderful advantage. Feeling firm in his seat, he let Bucephalus continue his break-neck speed till his beating sides and labored breath showed that he was exhausted. Then turning him unresisting he rode back. After a while he met Jasper. The latter could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the fierce steed cowed and subdued, while his cousin seemed perfectly cool and composed. "Thank Heaven, you are safe!" ejaculated Jasper, hypocritically. "I was very much alarmed about you." "I have given Bucephalus a lesson," said Gilbert, quietly. "I will ride him again to-morrow. I think he is thoroughly subdued now. Did he ever act in this way when you rode him?" "No," answered Jasper. "I don't see what got into him to-day. You rode him splendidly," he felt forced to add. "I am not afraid of horses," said Gilbert, quietly. "But suppose we turn back. I think he has had enough for one day." CHAPTER XXXII. AN UNWELCOME RETURN. "I wish I know'd the boy would come to no harm," thought John, the coachman. "What made Master Jasper so anxious to have him ride the ugly brute? He wouldn't trust his own neck, but maybe it makes a difference when another's is in danger. I ain't sure but I'd rather my frind, Pat Murphy, would break his neck than mysilf. It's human natur to think of your silf first, and Master Jasper is got his shere of human natur' I'm thinkin'!" Time passed, and still John, as he kept about his work, could not keep his thoughts off the adventurous youth who had ridden Bucephalus. From time to time he went outside the stable, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked up the road, but still nothing was to be seen of either of the boys. "If he can manage the ugly baste, he knows how to ride, that's sure," said John to himself. "I wish I was certain of that same, I do, by St. Patrick."