regained his wind and confidence and the battle raged on.
It is doubtful how it would have ended. Perhaps they would have fought for hours, had not the black fighter had a bit of luck when the struggle had been going on steadily for about an hour. Sir Wilton had been pressing him hard and scoring several hard blows with his fore-feet, when—the black stallion landed a kick that broke one of his rival's fore-legs just above the knee and spelled his doom. The game horse was quick to recognize his defeat, and he backed against the wall, determined to punish his adversary as much as possible before he was finally borne to earth. He could no longer strike with his fore-feet, and he did not dare stand with his head to the wall, so he stood there grimly biting and occasionally turning to lash out with his heels, but this effort cost him great pain and he soon ceased fighting and stood taking his punishment like a soldier.
Black Fury was not slow in administer-
