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Updated: June 8, 2025
Diablo's head was up, his teeth set hard and the man's strength was as nothing against the full-muscled neck of the big horse. Diablo was cutting down the lead the other two held over him, galloping like a demon. Porter felt that he must loosen the bit and throw that set head down to get command of the horse.
"I'd like to have something to show him that it isn't unpleasant having me around. I'd like to have him see some good results, you know? Is there anything I could feed him?" The boy chuckled. "Best thing is some dried prunes with the pits taken out of 'em. I have some at the house. They get stuck in Diablo's teeth and it's sure funny to see him eat 'em.
There was none of Lucretia's timidity in Diablo's approach; it was full of an assumption of equality, of trust in the intentions of the stranger who had come with the mistress he hart faith in. "They're all like that when Miss Allis is about," explained Mike; "there never would be a bad horse if the stable-b'ys worked the same way. Tie him up, Shandy," he added.
"I made a mistake, an' I'm sorry; an' if you will tell me whether Diablo's good business for the Brooklyn, I'll back him now at the shorter price. There's no use of us bein' bad friends." "I think Diablo's a fairly good bet," said Crane, quietly, entirely ignoring the question of friendship.
Now we'll see a ding-dong finish, if the Black doesn't show a streak of yellow. Dutchy's got him," he added, as through his glasses he saw them swing into the straight, neck and neck. "Clever Mr. Westlev!" for Diablo's rider, having the rail and the lead, had bored out slightly on the turn, so as not to cramp the uncertain horse he rode, and carried The Dutchman wide.
"They're friends of mine, and I offered to buy Lauzanne back, just to help them out; but the old man's daughter has got the Chestnut for a hack, and she won't sell him. It was Diablo's fault that Porter got the fall, so they were willing to part with him, and I took the brute."
Thereupon he turned Diablo's head to the south and started down the slope. His manner had been decisive, even stern. Lash did not question it, nor did Ladd. Both rangers hesitated, however, and showed a strange, almost sullen reluctance which Gale had never seen in them before.
When the mingled call of his mistress and Diablo's bugle note came to him he waited no longer, but rushed across the passage and seized the black horse by the crest just as he was overpowering the girl. It was at that instant Mortimer reached the scene in his hand a stable fork he had grabbed as he raced down the passage.
Gregory questioned quickly. Bronson shrugged his shoulders non-committally. "Can't say," he answered. "Don't know how often he goes out there. But I do know that he brags that his boat can make it in two hours and a half. Diablo's a bad place for the Fuor d'Italia. She's built too light to stand the gaff." The ride to Port Angeles proved all too short.
Tod nodded, his eyes glinting. "I know," he said. "I used to feel that way before I learned how to handle Diablo." He interpreted, "You feel like it'd be pretty fine to get onto Diablo's back and have him gallop under you." "About the finest thing in the world," sighed Bull Hunter.
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