"
"Why can't you?" demanded Bostil, straightening up with a glint in his big
eyes. It was the first time he had asked Slone that.
"I can't ride for you," replied Slone, briefly.
"Anythin' to do with Lucy?" queried Bostil.
"How so?" returned Slone, conscious of more heat.
"Wal, you was sweet on her an' she wouldn't have you," replied Bostil.
Slone felt the blood swell and boil in his veins. This Bostil could say as
harsh and hard things as repute gave him credit for.
"Yes, I AM sweet on Lucy, an' she won't have me," said Slone, steadily. "I
asked her to let me come to you an' tell you I wanted to marry her. But she
wouldn't."
"Wal, it's just as good you didn't come, because I might. . . ." Bostil broke
off his speech and began again. "You don't lack nerve, Slone. What'd you have
to offer Lucy?"
"Nothin' except--But that doesn't matter," replied Slone, cut to the quick by
Bostil's scorn. "I'm glad you know, an' so much for that."
Bostil turned to look at Wildfire once more, and he looked long.
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