There was in him dim knowledge of events through
which he himself had never passed. By the very lines of his blood
there was bred in him a need for human affection and human care, just
as there was bred in him the keen heart of the racer. And now he knew
to the full that exquisite delight of service with the very life of a
helpless man given into his keeping.
One ear he canted back to the pain-roughened voice which spoke at his
ear. The voice was growing weaker and weaker, just as the grip of the
legs was decreasing, and the hands were tangled less firmly in his
mane, but now the bright-colored buildings of the ranch appeared
through the trees. They were passing between the deadly rows of barbed
wire with far-off mutter of the pursuing horses beating at his ear and
telling him that all escape was cut off. Yet still the man held him to
the way through a mingling of trails thick with the scents of man, of
man-ridden horses. The burden on his back now slipped from side to
side at every reach of his springy gallop.
They came in sight of the ranch house itself. The failing voice
rose for one instant into a hoarse cry of joy. Far behind, rose a
triumphant echo of shouting.
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