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"My God!" said Houghton, turning upon him with staring eyes, "you are " "Whose horse is that?" interjected Cayley. Firefoot laid his head upon Cayley's shoulder. Houghton looked at them both for a moment. "It is the horse of Hyland the bushranger," he said. "All Queensland knows Firefoot." Then he dazedly added: "Are you Hyland?"
"Firefoot!" she answered dazedly, "that is the name of Hyland's horse Hyland the bushranger." "This is Hyland's horse," he said, and he patted the animal's neck gently as it thrust its head within the window. "But you said it was your horse," she rejoined slowly, as though the thing perplexed her sorely. "It is Hyland's horse; it is my horse," he urged without looking at her.
"I do not understand," Houghton responded. Cayley drew Houghton back from where they stood and away from the horse. "Look at that horse," he said. "Did you ever see a better?" "Never," answered Houghton, running him over with his eye, "never." "You notice the two white feet and the star on the forehead. Now, listen. Firefoot, here!"
"Firefoot!" she answered dazedly, "that is the name of Hyland's horse Hyland the bushranger." "This is Hyland's horse," he said, and he patted the animal's neck gently as it thrust its head within the window. "But you said it was your horse," she rejoined slowly, as though the thing perplexed her sorely. "It is Hyland's horse; it is my horse," he urged without looking at her.
"My God!" said Houghton, turning upon him with staring eyes, "you are " "Whose horse is that?" interjected Cayley. Firefoot laid his head upon Cayley's shoulder. Houghton looked at them both for a moment. "It is the horse of Hyland the bushranger," he said. "All Queensland knows Firefoot." Then he dazedly added: "Are you Hyland?"
"I do not understand," Houghton responded. Cayley drew Houghton back from where they stood and away from the horse. "Look at that horse," he said. "Did you ever see a better?" "Never," answered Houghton, running him over with his eye, "never." "You notice the two white feet and the star on the forehead. Now, listen. Firefoot, here!"
He went towards the open window of the room, and she followed. He pointed out to where his horse stood in the palms. "That is my horse," he said. He whistled to the horse, which pricked up its ears and trotted over to the window. "The name of my horse," he said, "maybe familiar to you. He is called Firefoot."
He went towards the open window of the room, and she followed. He pointed out to where his horse stood in the palms. "That is my horse," he said. He whistled to the horse, which pricked up its ears and trotted over to the window. "The name of my horse," he said, "maybe familiar to you. He is called Firefoot."
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