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以下歐美電影榜英文介紹

them. Her father was holding a rope halter. At once the black horse

struck Ellen as being a beauty and a thoroughbred.

"Ellen, heah's a horse for you," said Jorth, with something of pride. "I

made a trade. Reckon I wanted him myself, but he's too gentle for me an'

maybe a little small for my weight."

Delight visited Ellen for the first time in many days. Seldom had she

owned a good horse, and never one like this.

"Oh, dad! " she exclaimed, in her gratitude.

"Shore he's yours on one condition," said her father.

"What's that?" asked Ellen, as she laid caressing hands on the restless

horse.

"You're not to ride him out of the canyon."

"Agreed… . All daid black, isn't he, except that white face? What's his

name, dad?

"I forgot to ask," replied Jorth. as he began unsaddling his own horse.

"Slater, what's this heah black's name?"

The lanky giant grinned. "I reckon it was Spades."

"Spades?" ejaculated Ellen, blankly. "What a name! … Well, I guess it's

as good as any. He's shore black."

"Ellen, keep him hobbled when you're not ridin' him," was her father's

parting advice as he walked off with the stranger.

Spades was wet and dusty and his satiny skin quivered. He had fine,

dark, intelligent eyes that watched Ellen's every move. She knew how

her father and his friends dragged and jammed horses through the

woods and over the rough trails. It did not take her long to discover that

this horse had been a pet. Ellen cleaned his coat and brushed him and

fed him. Then she fitted her bridle to suit his head and saddled him. His

evident response to her kindness assured her that he was gentle, so she

mounted and rode him, to discover he had the easiest gait she had ever

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experienced. He walked and trotted to suit her will, but when left to

choose his own gait he fell into a graceful little pace that was very easy

for her. He appeared quite ready to break into a run at her slightest bidding, but Ellen satisfied herself on this first ride with his slower gaits.

"Spades, y'u've shore cut out my burro Jinny," said Ellen, regretfully.

"Well, I reckon women are fickle."

Next day she rode up the canyon to show Spades to her friend John

Sprague. The old burro breeder was not at home. As his door was open,

however, and a fire smoldering, Ellen concluded he would soon return.

So she waited. Dismounting, she left Spades free to graze on the new

green grass that carpeted the ground. The cabin and little level clearing

accentuated the loneliness and wildness of the forest. Ellen always liked

it here and had once been in the habit of visiting the old man often. But

of late she had stayed away, for the reason that Sprague's talk and his

news and his poorly hidden pity depressed her.

Presently she heard hoof beats on the hard, packed trail leading down

the canyon in the direction from which she had come. Scarcely likely was

it that Sprague should return from this direction. Ellen thought her father had sent one of the herders for her. But when she caught a glimpse of

the approaching horseman, down in the aspens, she failed to recognize

him. After he had passed one of the openings she heard his horse stop.

Probably the man had seen her; at least she could not otherwise account

for his stopping. The glimpse she had of him had given her the impression that he was bending over, peering ahead in the trail, looking for

tracks. Then she heard the rider come on again, more slowly this time. At

length the horse trotted out into the opening, to be hauled up short. Ellen

recognized the buckskin-clad figure, the broad shoulders, the dark face

of Jean Isbel.

Ellen felt prey to the strangest quaking sensation she had ever

suffered. It took violence of her new-born spirit to subdue that feeling.

Isbel rode slowly across the clearing toward her. For Ellen his approach seemed singularly swift—so swift that her surprise, dismay, conjecture, and anger obstructed her will. The outwardly calm and cold Ellen Jorth was a travesty that mocked her—that she felt he would discern.

The moment Isbel drew close enough for Ellen to see his face she experienced a strong, shuddering repetition of her first shock of recognition. He was not the same. The light, the youth was gone. This, however,

did not cause her emotion. Was it not a sudden transition of her nature

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to the dominance of hate? Ellen seemed to feel the shadow of her unknown self standing with her.

Isbel halted his horse. Ellen had been standing near the trunk of a

fallen pine and she instinctively backed against it. How her legs

trembled! Isbel took off his cap and crushed it nervously in his bare,

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