Then
Bostil heard the sharp, rhythmic hoof-beats he recognized. They shortened to
clatter and pound--then ceased somewhere out in front of the house.
"It's the King with Van up," said Lucy, from the door. "Dad, Van's jumped
off--he's coming in . . . he's running. Something has happened. . . . There
are other horses coming--riders--Indians."
Bostil knew what was coming and prepared himself. Rapid footsteps sounded
without.
"Hello, Miss Lucy! Where's Bostil?"
A lean, supple rider appeared before the door. It was Van, greatly excited.
"Come in, boy," said Bostil. "What're you flustered about?"
Van strode in, spurs jangling, cap in hand. "Boss, there's--a sixty-foot
raise--in the river!" Van panted.
"Oh!" cried Lucy, wheeling toward her father.
"Wal, Van, I reckon I knowed thet," replied Bostil. "Mebbe I'm gettin' old,
but I can still hear. . . . Listen."
Lucy tiptoed to the door and turned her head sidewise and slowly bowed it till
she stiffened. Outside were, sounds of birds and horses and men, but when a
lull came it quickly filled with a sullen, low boom.
Pages:
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297