A cruel blow of his spurred heel brought the beast almost to its knees with a whinny of pain. Then it jumped high in the air, and once more began its furious race with this mysterious and horrible being that clung so tenaciously to his back.
Andy rode him hard, cruelly hard, and when the beast, panting, sweating, beaten, would have stopped he dug the spurs in and drove him on, on, until the broncho's breath came in sobbing gasps and his legs trembled under him.
Betty, who could never bear to see anything hurt, shouted to Andy Rawlinson as man and beast came abreast of her:
"Isn't that enough?" she cried. "You've beaten him. Stop! Please stop!"
And Andy Rawlinson, flashing his pleasant smile, flung himself from his mount, while the beautiful horse stood there, quivering, head hung in shame----
"Game hoss, that," said Andy, as he vaulted the low railing and approached the girls. "Fought like a thoroughbred."
"And you were wonderful," cried Betty, with her warm impulsiveness. "I never saw finer riding. We were all afraid you were going to be killed."
Andy was pleased, but he looked at Betty rather quizzically.
"Strange," he drawled, with a smile on his face, "strange what impressions you get sometimes. Now I kind o' thought you was mad at me, the way you called out to stop. Anyways, you looked mad."
"I was only sorry for the horse," Betty explained gravely. "He was game, as you say, and I hated to see his spirit entirely broken."
Andy Rawlinson looked at her with admiring approval in his nice eyes.
"There speaks the real lover of animals," he cried enthusiastically. "I hate to break a good hoss myself, but you see it has to be done--for the sake of the hoss. A hoss that's a bad actor is mighty like a mad dog. It has to be killed--or broke. So we break 'em. But now," he said, glancing toward the corrals, "I reckon you young ladies would like to pick out some nice gentle hosses to ride while you're here."
The girls nodded and crowded forward eagerly while Andy called to some of the cowboys who had been lingering enviously near.
"Bring out the sorrel and Nigger, will you, Jake?" he said to one of them. "I'll corral Lady and Nabob."
The girls watched with interest while the boys corraled the four horses Andy had selected and led them forth for the visitors' inspection.