cheeks, but he set his jaw hard and took it like a man. Peter dropped the strap.
"I'm sorry, Master Bobby. I did n't like it any better than you, but it had to be done. Are we friends?" he held out his hand.
"No, we 're not friends!" Bobby snapped. He turned his back and put on his coat; then he started for the house. "You 'll be sorry," he threw over his shoulder.
During the next few days Bobby ignored Peter. If he had any business in the neighbourhood of the stables he addressed himself ostentatiously to one of the under men. The rupture of their friendship did not pass unmarked, though the grooms soon found that it did not pay to be facetious on the subject. Billy, in return for some jocular comments, spent an afternoon in adding a superfluous lustre to already brilliant carriage lamps.
The mustang arrived, was christened Apache, and assigned to a box stall. He possessed a slightly vicious eye and a tendency to buck,
