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part of my great brain’s plan into operation.”

    Tom saw Dotty pulling weeds in the front yard of the adobe house. He rode Dusty at a gallop until he got in front of the house. He got off the mustang where Dotty couldn’t see him and unloosened the cinch on the saddle.

        “Mind helping me?” he called to her. “Dusty always blows up his belly when I saddle him so the cinch won’t be too tight. I’m afraid to ride him at a gallop.”

        It was a lie, but Dotty didn’t know. She came through the front gate. She talked softly to Dusty and rubbed his nose. “I’ll get his mind off it,” she said.

        Tom pulled the cinch tight and fastened the buckle. “Thanks,” he said. “The cinch is good and tight now.”

        “He’s a beautiful mustang,” Dotty said as she patted Dusty on the neck.

    “Like to ride him?” Tom asked.

        Dotty smiled for the first time since Tom had known her. “I’d love to,” she said.

        Her blue eyes were bright as she dismounted from Dusty. “He sure is a well-gaited horse,” she said.

    “You know a lot about horses, don’t you,” Tom said.

        “I should,” she said. “I was raised with them. I just love horses. They are the only friends I ever had except a dog we had once.”

        “You don’t like it here in Adenville, do you?” Tom asked.

        “I hate it,” Dotty said with her blue eyes cold as steel. “Pa and me ain’t free anymore. He has to work all day in that shop, where I know he’s dyin ‘ inside. I gotta go to school. Me and Pa don’t belong here.”

        “But you are here,” Tom said, “and should try to make the best of it. I’ll be your friend if you let me. And if you do, I’ll let you ride Dusty every Saturday afternoon. Not just a short ride like today but a good long ride.”

       

    That night after supper Tom made his announcement. “I made friends with Dotty Blake today,” he said.

        Papa stopped reading a book. Aunt Bertha stopped darning socks. Mamma stopped knitting.

        “Thank the Lord,” Mamma said. “At least the poor thing has one friend.”

        “She is not a poor thing,” Tom said with rebuke in his voice. “She is just a kid who never had a chance to be friends with anybody but horses. That is how I made friends with her. I let her ride Dusty this afternoon.”

    “How is it going in school for her?” Papa asked.

        “She won’t learn anything,” Tom said. “She just sits there and refuses to try no matter how patient Mr. Standish is. But don’t worry, Papa, my great brain is working on it.”

        “In that case,” Papa said, smiling at Mamma, “we have nothing to worry about.”

        Tom took immediate advantage of this. “Of course, my great brain would work faster and better if there was some kind of reward in it for me,” he said.

        “You will get two rewards,” Mamma said. “First, you will get your bicycle back, and second, you will get the best reward a person can get, in helping another person who needs help.”

        From the look on Tom’s face I could tell he didn’t think that was much of a reward.

        Tom and I were the only kids in school who talked to Dotty during morning and afternoon recess. I was as embarrassed as all get out, because if there was one thing a fellow didn’t do in Adenville, it was to have anything to do with girls. But it didn’t seem to bother Tom. Monday after school he walked part way home with Dotty, while I tagged along behind. We stopped in front of our house.

        “Come over tonight after supper,” Tom said, “and I’ll show you a picture of the most beautiful horse you’ve ever seen. His name is Black Beauty.”

    “I’ll ask Pa,” Dotty promised, and then she left us.

    “What are you going to do?” I asked Tom.

        “Put the second part of my great brain’s plan into action,” Tom said.

        That night after Mamma and Aunt