"Only that for some reason I'm done in Bostil's Ford.It can't be because Ipunched Joel Creech.I felt it before I met Bostil at the store.He taunted me.We had bitter words.He told before all of them how the outfit I wore you gave me.An' then I dared him to race the King.My horse an' my life against YOU!""Yes, I know," she whispered, softly."It's all over town....Oh, Lin! it was a grand bet! And Bostil four-flushed, as the riders say.For days a race between Wildfire and the King had been in the air.There'll never be peace in Bostil's Ford again till that race is run.""But, Lucy, could Bostil's wantin' Wildfire an' hatin' me because I won't sell--could that ruin me here at the Ford?""It could.But, Lin, there's more.Oh, I hate to tell you!" she whispered, passionately."I thought you'd know....Joel Creech swore you cut the ropes on the ferry-boat and sent it adrift.""The loon!" ejaculated Slone, and he laughed low in both anger and ridicule.
"Lucy, that's only a fool's talk."
"He's crazy.Oh, if I ever get him in front of me again when I'm on Sarch--I'll--I'll...." She ended with a little gasp and leaned a moment against Slone.He felt her heart beat--felt the strong clasp of her hands.She was indeed Bostil's flesh and blood, and there was that in her dangerous to arouse.
"Lin, the folks here are queer," she resumed, more calmly."For long years Dad has ruled them.They see with his eyes and talk with his voice.Joel Creech swore you cut those cables.Swore he trailed you.Brackton believed him.Van believed him.They told my father.And he--my dad--God forgive him! he jumped at that.The village as one person now believes you sent the boat adrift so Creech's horses could not cross and you could win the race.""Lucy, if it wasn't so--so funny I'd be mad as--as--" burst out Slone.
"It isn't funny.It's terrible....I know who cut those cables...Holley knows....DAD knows--an', oh, Lin--I--hate--I hate my own father!""My God!" gasped Slone, as the full signification burst upon him.Then his next thought was for Lucy."Listen, dear--you mustn't say that," he entreated.
"He's your father.He's a good man every way except when he's after horses.
Then he's half horse.I understand him.I feel sorry for him....An' if he's throwed the blame on me, all right.I'll stand it.What do I care? I was queered, anyhow, because I wouldn't part with my horse.It can't matter so much if people think I did that just to help win a race.But if they knew your--your father did it, an' if Creech's horses starve, why it'd be a disgrace for him--an' you.""Lin Slone--you'll accept the blame!" she whispered, with wide, dark eyes on him, hands at his shoulders.
"Sure I will," replied Slone."I can't be any worse off.""You're better than all of them--my rider!" she cried, full-voiced and tremulous."Lin, you make me love you so--it--it hurts!" And she seemed about to fling herself into his arms again.There was a strangeness about her--a glory."But you'll not take the shame of that act.For I won't let you.I'll tell my father I was with you when the boat was cut loose.He'll believe me.""Yes, an' he'll KILL me!" groaned Slone."Good Lord! Lucy, don't do that!""I will! An' he'll not kill you.Lin, Dad took a great fancy to you.I know that.He thinks he hates you.But in his heart he doesn't.If he got hold of Wildfire--why, he'd never be able to do enough for you.He never could make it up.What do you think? I told him you hugged and kissed me shamefully that day.""Oh, Lucy! you didn't?" implored Slone.
"I sure did.And what do you think? He said he once did the same to my mother!
...No, Lin, Dad'd never kill you for anything except a fury about horses.
All the fights he ever had were over horse deals.The two men--he--he--" Lucy faltered and her shudder was illuminating to Slone."Both of them--fights over horse trades!""Lucy, if I'm ever unlucky enough to meet Bostil again I'll be deaf an' dumb.
An' now you promise me you won't tell him you were with me that night.""Lin, if the occasion comes, I will--I couldn't help it," replied Lucy.
"Then fight shy of the occasion," he rejoined, earnestly."For that would be the end of Lin Slone!""Then--what on earth can--we do?" Lucy said, with sudden break of spirit.
"I think we must wait.You wrote in your letter you'd stick to me-- you'd--"He could not get the words out, the thought so overcame him.
"If it comes to a finish, I'll go with you," Lucy returned, with passion rising again.
"Oh! to ride off with you, Lucy--to have you all to myself--I daren't think of it.But that's only selfish.""Maybe it's not so selfish as you believe.If you left the Ford--now --it'd break my heart.I'd never get over it.""Lucy! You love me--that well?"
Then their lips met again and their hands locked, and they stood silent, straining toward each other.He held the slight form, so pliant, so responsive, so alive, close to him, and her face lay hidden on his breast; and he looked out over her head into the quivering moonlit shadows.The night was as still as one away on the desert far from the abode of men.It was more beautiful than any dream of a night in which he had wandered far into strange lands where wild horses were and forests lay black under moon-silvered peaks.
"We'll run--then--if it comes to a finish," said Slone, huskily."But I'll wait.I'll stick it out here.I'll take what comes.So--maybe I'll not disgrace you more.""I told Van I--I gloried in being hugged by you that day," she replied, and her little defiant laugh told what she thought of the alleged disgrace.
"You torment him," remonstrated Slone."You set him against us.It would be better to keep still.""But my blood is up!" she said, and she pounded his shoulder with her fist.
