The Marquis 



down over the open meadow-land, and the Mar- 

 quis had proved the "vet" was wrong. The 

 tendon had been cruelly tested and had not been 

 found wanting at the crucial moment. But the 

 Marquis stopped at the top of the next hill; he 

 heard no longer the sound of the horn, for he was 

 to windward of it now and could neither hear nor 

 scent the direction. 



That evening when Fullerton rode home, 

 covered with mud and happy, he saw the Marquis 

 as usual in the Spring Run pasture, but when he 

 called gaily to him, the Marquis did not stop nib- 

 bling at a particularly delicious tuft of grass, 

 which he pretended to have discovered, but 

 treated Fullerton with all the aristocratic scorn 

 which it is possible for one with such antecedents 

 as the Marquis to put into a single snub. Fuller- 

 ton seemed rather inclined to treat the matter 

 lightly — he had had a good day's hunting, and 

 they had "killed" over there, near the mill on the 

 Harris place; so he chuckled audibly at the superb, 

 studied indifference of the Marquis, and called 

 him old "bowed tendon." When Fullerton had 

 gone the Marquis stopped nibbling, sniffed dis- 

 gustedly and swished his tail in a burst of pent-up 

 anger. The Torchlights all had very bad tempers 

 when aroused, but it was usually soon over, and 

 the Marquis was truly devoted to Fullerton. 

 17 



