. . Thet settles thet!"
"If I go away from here an' leave Wildfire for Lucy--do you think she could
keep him? Wouldn't Bostil take him from her?"
"Wal, son, if he tried thet on Lucy she'd jump Wildfire an' hit your trail an'
hang on to it till she found you."
"What'll you tell Bostil?" asked Slone, half beside himself.
"I'm consarned if I know," replied Holley. "Mebbe I'll think of some idee.
I'll go back now. An' say, son, I reckon you'd better hang close to home. If
you meet Bostil down in the village you two'd clash sure. I'll come up soon,
but it'll be after dark."
"Holley, all this is--is good of you," said Slone. "I--I'll--"
"Shut up, son," interrupted the rider, dryly. "Thet's your only weakness, so
far as I can see. You say too much."
Holley started down then, his long, clinking spurs digging into the steep
path. He left Slone a prey to deep thoughts at once anxious and dreamy.
Next day Slone worked hard all day, looking forward to nightfall, expecting
that Holley would come up. He tried to resist the sweet and tantalizing
anticipation of a message from Lucy, but in vain.
Pages:
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388