"Jerd, Paul, where are you?
Here, bring out the horses." The sound of dropping bars inside the barn was the signal for the horses to jerk their heads in the windows, to snort and stamp.

Then they came pounding out of the door, a file of thoroughbreds, to plunge about the barnyard, heads and tails up, manes flying.

They halted afar off, squared away to look, came slowly forward with whinnies for their mistress, and doubtful snorts for the strangers and their horses.
"Come--come--come," called Jane, holding out her hands.

"Why, Bells--Wrangle, where are your manners?
Come, Black Star--come, Night.
Ah, you beauties! My racers of the sage!" Only two came up to her; those she called Night and Black Star.

Venters never looked at them without delight.