Thus
laden, he went outside and, tingling with emotions utterly sweet and
bewildering, he led the horses down into the village.
Slone went down to Brackton's, and put the horses into a large, high-fenced
pasture adjoining Brackton's house. Slone felt reasonably sure his horses
would be safe there, but he meant to keep a mighty close watch on them. And
old Brackton, as if he read Slone's mind, said this: "Keep your eye on thet
daffy boy, Joel Creech. He hangs round my place, sleeps out somewheres, an'
he's crazy about hosses."
Slone did not need any warning like that, nor any information to make him
curious regarding young Creech. Lucy had seen to that, and, in fact, Slone was
anxious to meet this half-witted fellow who had so grievously offended and
threatened Lucy. That morning, however, Creech did not put in an appearance.
The village had nearly returned to its normal state now, and the sleepy tenor
of its way. The Indians, had been the last to go, but now none remained. The
days were hot while the sun stayed high, and only the riders braved its heat.
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