But I've a temper, and Bostil rubs me the wrong way."
"Wall leave your gun home, an' fight Bostil. You're pretty husky. Sure he'll
lick you, but mebbe you could give the old cuss a black eye." Holley laughed
as if the idea gave him infinite pleasure.
"Fight Bostil? . . . Lucy would hate me!" cried Slone.
"Nix! You don't know thet kid. If the old man goes after you Lucy'll care more
fer you. She's jest like him in some ways." Holley pulled out a stubby black
pipe and, filling and lighting it, he appeared to grow more thoughtful. "It
wasn't only Lucy thet sent me up here to see you. Bostil had been pesterin' me
fer days. But I kept fightin' shy of it till Lucy got hold of me."
"Bostil sent you? Why?"
"Reckon you can guess. He can't sleep, thinkin' about your red hoss. None of
us ever seen Bostil have sich a bad case. He raised Sage King. But he's always
been crazy fer a great wild stallion. An' here you come along--an' your hoss
jumps the King--an' there's trouble generally."
"Holley, do you think Wildfire can beat Sage King?" asked Slone, eagerly.
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