This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1920 Excerpt: ...had solaced him, yet every time he felt the hand of the Mexican on his silken coat, Midnight trembled with disgust. Often he bared his teeth, squealed, kicked. Yet, quick as he was, the experienced horse thief was quicker. Aguilar kept out of the stable and was depending on kindness and usage to make the horse amenable ... Read More
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1920 Excerpt: ...had solaced him, yet every time he felt the hand of the Mexican on his silken coat, Midnight trembled with disgust. Often he bared his teeth, squealed, kicked. Yet, quick as he was, the experienced horse thief was quicker. Aguilar kept out of the stable and was depending on kindness and usage to make the horse amenable to his will. He did not want to sell the horse injured, broken. He knew the value of the animal and meant to sell him in prime condition, hence his extreme care of Midnight. As Aguilar edged back the hidden door of the concealed stable, there was a flash of hooves, a squeal. The stallion had kicked at him. Aguilar, missed by a hair, stepped back and laughed. "In time, my friend, in time, you will yield," he chuckled. He shut the door, almost, and waited. He talked to Midnight who stood, ears a-cock, listening to those smooth, flowing, nearly lisping tones, seeking in them for sounds that would appeal to him. For in truth, the horse, used to the air, the sun, the tang of wind, was lonesome and anxious for friendly nuzzling, a loved voice to answer his own deep whickering. Aguilar's voice flowed on and on. The great stallion's head drooped, his eyes paled. He shook a fly from his mane with quick tremors of his shining skin. He stamped with one forefoot, then another. Aguilar inched the door open, slid inside, talking, crooning, reaching for the nose of the lonely animal. Midnight seemed to drowse. The soft hand touched the soft nose. At the touch a shiver of hate ran through every fiber of Midnight's being. The feel of the man's cold palm on his own warm nose brought into the animal's memory the agony of the constricting rope, the heavy fall, the long, blind, fearsome walk over the prairie. Midnight became a whirlwind of anger. His he... Read Less
