For
Slone would be wary. He would give no sign of his pursuit. He would steal upon
the Creeches in the dark and-- Lucy shivered again. What an awful fate had
been that of Dick Sears!
So as she rode on Lucy's mind was full. She was used to riding, and in the
motion of a horse there was something in harmony with her blood. Even now,
with worry and dread and plotting strong upon her, habit had such power over
her that riding made the hours fleet. She was surprised to be halted, to see
dimly low, dark mounds of rock ahead.
"Git off," said Creech.
"Where are we?" asked Lucy.
"Reckon hyar's the rocks. An' you sleep some, fer you'll need it." He spread a
blanket, laid her saddle at the head of it, and dropped another blanket. "What
I want to know is--shall I tie you up or not?" asked Creech. "If I do you'll
git sore. An' this'll be the toughest trip you ever made."
"You mean will I try to get away from you--or not?" queried Lucy.
"Jest thet."
Lucy pondered. She divined some fineness of feeling in this coarse man.
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