“Sugar, Sam,” called Judah, still keeping his eye on the horse, and stroking his muzzle gently. The horse was much subdued, and took the lumps of sugar from his hand without an attempt at biting. “Wal, I’m blessed!” came from the crowd. “Hand me the bit and bridle, Sam.” “You ain’t going inside, Jude?” said the Colonel. “In a minute, yes.” With a sleight-of-hand movement a bit of sugar was in the creature’s mouth, together with the bit, and the strap slipped over his head. The animal was bitted, the bridle in his conqueror’s hand. “Unbolt the door, Sam; open it wide enough for me to get in,” and Judah entered the stable. “Steady, boy, steady. Sh--ho!” talking to, coaxing the half-cowed beast, the boy got the saddle on his back, and tightened the girths. “Now, gentlemen,” called Judah, “Sam will fling open the door the minute I seize the bridle. Stand clear for your lives.” He gathered curb and snaffle at the loop into his bridle-hand, slid his right down and gripped it close at the bit. Before the animal could bite, rear or kick, the door was flung wide and man and steed dashed out together, Judah letting go his right hand and flinging himself into the saddle instantly, tightening the curb with both hands, and driving his feet into the stirrups. A buzz of excitement and admiration broke from the crowd of men now too deeply stirred for words. The battle-royal had begun. The horse plunged forward, reared wildly, pawed the air, and whirled around. Judah struck him a sharp blow between the ears with the whip, only to have him kick out behind in a furious attempt to throw the rider over his head. In rapid succession the animal plunged, reared, kicked, ran to and fro, and suddenly made a buck leap into the air. There was an exclamation, followed by a ringing cheer, as the men saw the boy still keeping his seat. The moment the creature’s hoofs touched the ground, Judah drove the spurs into his flanks and they dashed away at a mad gallop. Then followed an exhibition of the most daring horsemanship ever witnessed in Kansas City. Rising in his stirrups, Judah, while keeping perfect control of the animal, converted the four acres of enclosure into a circus-arena, round which the horse was forced at a gallop under the sting of the whip, and in the true style of reckless Indian riding on the Western plains. “Well done!” “Hurrah for the nigger! he’s beat the hoss into the middle o’ nex’ week!” These and similar exclamations broke from the delighted spectators. Beaten completely, trembling in every limb and flecked with foam, the horse followed his conqueror quietly to the stables. Colonel Titus was throwing his hat wildly up in the air in the enthusiasm of the moment, but Bill Thomson stood quietly by with an evil look distorting his face into a grin of malice and fury. “Say, Colonel,” whispered a man in the crowd, “I wudn’t be in that ar nigger’s shoes, not fer no money. Bill’s mad ’cause he’s beat the hoss.”