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----- {{frankp051.png}} || bred of the desert ||


call for the horse and phaeton. Whereupon the
Mexican slunk off into the stable. But as he
went Pat saw the gleam in his black eyes, and knew
that some day punishment most dire and cruel
would descend upon him.

He passed through his second summer, that
period of trial and sickness for many infants, in
perfect health. In perfect health also he passed
through the autumn and on into his second winter.
Growing ever stronger with the passing seasons,
he came to reveal still further his wonderful vitality,
and to reveal it in many ways. Often he
would take the initiative against the Mexican,
kicking at him without due cause, refusing always
to get out of his way, once nipping him sharply
as he hurried past under pressing orders from the
house. Also, having grown to a size equal to the
brown saddler, he began to reveal his antipathy
for this animal. Not only would he shoulder him
away from the feed-box, but he would kick and
snap at him, and once he tipped over the water-pail
for no other reason, seemingly, than to deprive
the saddler of water. The result of all this
was that, with the passing seasons, both the Mexican
and the saddler showed increasing respect
for him, and the former went to every precaution
to avoid a serious encounter.

But it was bound to come in spite of all his efforts
to avoid it. Fighting spring flies in the stable
one morning, Pat was aroused by a familiar sound
in the corral. It was the sound which usually accompanied
feeding, and, whirling, he plunged


[[51]]

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