David was still flushed with the excitement of the tale, and he was perplexed¹ and troubled when Connor's strange, high laughter brought to an abrupt² end the picture they had both lived in.  
The gambler saw the frown on David's brow, and with an effort he made himself suddenly grave, though he was still pale and shaking.
 
"David, this is the reason Jurith can win. Somewhere in the past there was a freak gray horse. There are other kinds of freaks; oranges had seeds in 'em; all at once up pops a tree that has seedless fruit. People plant shoots from it. There you have the naval³ orange, all out of one tree. It's the same way with that gray horse. It was a freak; had a high croup and muscles as stretchy as India-rubber, and strong—like the difference between the muscles of a mule⁴ and the muscles of most horses. That's what that first horse was. He was bred and the get came into this valley. They kept improving—and the result is Glani! The Eden Gray, David, is the finest horse in the world because it's a different and a better horse!"
 
The master paused for some time, and Connor knew he was deep in thought. Finally he spoke⁵:
 
"But if we know the speed of the Eden Grays, why should we go out into the world and take the money of other men because they do not know how fast our horses run?"
 
Connor made sure the master was serious and nerved himself for the second effort.
 
"What do you wish, David?"
 
"In what measure, Benjamin?"
 
"The sky's the limit! I say, what do you wish? The last wish that was in your head."
 
"Shakra stumbled a little while ago; I wished for a smoother road."
 
"David, with the money we win on the tracks we'll tear up these roads, cut trenches⁶, fill 'em with solid blocks of rock, lay 'em over with asphalt, make 'em as smooth as glass! What else?"
 
"You jest, Benjamin. That is a labor⁷ for a thousand men."
 
"I say, it's nothing to what we'll do. What else do you want? Turn your mind loose—open up your eyes and see something that's hard to get."
 
"Every wish is a regret, and why should I fail of gratitude⁸ to God by making my wishes? Yet, I have been weak, I confess. I have sometimes loathed⁹ the crumbling¹⁰ walls of my house. I have wished for a tall chamber—on the floor a covering which makes no sound, colors about me—crystal vases for my flowers—music when I come—"
 
"Stop there! You see that big white cliff? I'll have that stone cut in chunks¹¹ as big as you and your horse put together. I'll have 'em piled on a foundation as strong as the bottom of those hills. You see the way those mountain-tops walk into the sky? That's how the stairways will step up to the front of your house and put you out on a big terrace with columns scooting up fifty feet, and when you walk across the terrace a couple of great big doors weighing about a ton apiece will drift open and make a whisper when you mosey in. And when you get inside you'll start looking up and up, but you'll get dizzy before your eyes hit the ceiling; and up there you'll see a lighting¹² stunt¹³ that looks like a million icicles with the sun behind 'em."
 
He paused an instant for breath and saw David smiling in a hazy¹⁴ pleasure.
 
"I follow you," he said softly. "Go on!" And his hand stretched out as though to open a door.
 
"What I've told you about is only a beginning. Turn yourself loose; dream, and I'll turn your dream into stone and color, and fill up your windows with green and gold and red glass till you'll think a rainbow has got all tangled¹⁵ up there! I'll give you music that'll make you forget to think, and when you think I'll give you a room so big that you'll have silence with an echo to it."
 
"All this for my horses?"
 
"Send one of the grays—just one, and let me place the wagers¹⁶. You don't even have to risk your own money. I've made a slough¹⁷ of it betting on things that weren't lead pipe cinches like this. I made on Fidgety Midget at fifty to one. I made on Gosham at eight to one. Nobody told me how to bet on 'em. I know a horse—that's all! You stay in the Garden; I take one of the grays; I bring her back in six months with more coin than she can pack, and we split it fifty-fifty. You furnish the horse. I furnish the jack¹⁸. Is it a go?"
 
A bird stopped above them, whistled and dipped away over the treetops. David turned his head to follow the trailing song, and Connor realized with a sick heart that he had failed to sweep his man off his feet.
 
"Would you have me take charity?" asked David at length.
 
It seemed to Connor that there was a smile behind this. He himself burst into a roar of laughter.
 
"Sure, it sounds like charity. They'll be making you a gift right enough. There isn't a horse on the turf that has a chance with one of the grays! But they'll bet their money like fools."
 
"Would it not be a sin, then?"
 
"What sin?" asked Connor roughly. "Don't they grab the coin of other people? Does the bookie ask you how much coin you have and if you can afford to lose it? No, he's out to get all that he can grab. And we'll go out and do some grabbing in turn. Oh, they'll squeal¹⁹ when we turn the screw, but they'll kick through with the jack. No fear, Davie!"
 
"Whatever sins may be theirs, Benjamin, those sins need not be mine."
 
Connor was dumb.
 
"Because they are foolish," said David, "should I take advantage of their folly²⁰? A new man comes into the valley. He sees Jurith, and notices that she runs well in spite of her years. He says to me: 'This mare²¹ will run faster than your stallion. I have money and this ring upon my finger which I will risk against one dollar of your money; If the mare beats Glani I take your dollar. If Glani beats the mare, you take my purse and my ring; I have no other wealth. It will ruin me, but I am willing to be ruined if Ju............