He crowed over Bostil's discomfiture. And when Lucy told
him that Slone had dared her father to race, had offered to bet Wildfire and
his own life against her hand, then Creech was beside himself.
"This hyar Slone--he CALLED Bostil's hand!"
"He's a wild-horse hunter. And HE can trail us!"
"Trail us! Slone? Say, Lucy, are you in love with him?"
Lucy uttered a strange little broken sound, half laugh, half sob. "Love him!
Ah!"
"An' your Dad's ag'in him! Sure Bostil'll hate any rider with a fast hoss. Why
didn't the darn fool sell his stallion to your father?"
"He gave Wildfire to me."
"I'd have done the same. Wal, now, when you git back home what's comin' of it
all?"
Lucy shook her head sorrowfully. "God only knows. Dad will never own Wildfire,
and he'll never let me marry Slone. And when you take the King away from him
to ransom me--then my life will be hell, for if Dad sacrifices Sage King,
afterward he'll hate me as the cause of his loss."
"I can sure see the sense of all that," replied Creech, soberly.
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