130 JUSTIN MORGAN 



halter his touch was so firm and friendly the horse knew 

 instantly that here was his master. He arched his crest, 

 pawed the ground prettily, and thrust his large, sensitive 

 nostrils forward. 



Stone led him out into the bright sunshine ; the officer 

 examined him thoroughly — an operation Morgan had 

 long since grown accustomed to, as he had changed 

 owners so often. 



A flame of friendship sprang up between the two. 



'T can scarce credit his age to be twenty-two!" said 

 the stranger. "He has such suppleness of joint, he 

 moves with the action of a five-year-old !" 



Stone was pleased and proud of his horse; he said: 



"Those are his characteristics, Captain Dulaney!" 



Dulaney? Morgan's memory awoke, vaguely. 



"And from what stock, did you say?" the officer en- 

 quired. 



Stone let him know all that was said concerning Mor- 

 gan's parentage. Then he continued: 



"He has worked hard at the plow, most of his life, and 

 he is not known in horse-books, but we Vermonters don't 

 take much interest in pedigrees. We say, 'pretty is as 

 pretty does' and present merit is what we go by, Cap- 

 tain — not what his ancestors did !" 



The Maryland gentleman laughed, seeing the point. 



"Blood speaks for itself, right here," Captain Dulaney 

 said. "I will wager my new sword that this horse has 

 thoroughbred blood! So you see your argument about 

 pedigree does not hold !" 



Morgan waved his tail slightly, in acknowledgment. 



"I like the animal," added the Captain, in his quiet, 

 pleasant way. "I would mount him, sir." 



In ten minutes Morgan was accoutred in the military 

 trappings and saddle of an officer of the United States 

 Army. It was with a thrill that he felt the Captain 



