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Updated: June 17, 2025
This fellow had made for the mesquite and had put a saddle on Belding's favorite. In the heat of the excitement, while Ladd had been intent upon the climbing horse, this last raider had come down with the speed of the wind straight for the western outlet. Perhaps, very probably, he did not know Gale was there to block it; and certainly he hoped to pass Ladd and Blanco Sol.
Naturally, on first impulse, he wanted to hide his interest in the daughter; but he resolved to be absolutely frank and true, and through that win or lose. Moreover, if Mrs. Belding asked him any questions about his home, his family, his connections, he would not avoid direct and truthful answers. Toward evening Gale heard the tramp of horses and Belding's hearty voice.
He saw the green alfalfa fields, and Belding's white horses, looking very small and motionless. He pleased himself by imagining he could pick out Blanco Sol. Then his gaze swept on to the river. Indeed, he realized now why some one had named it Forlorn River. Even at this season when it was full of water it had a forlorn aspect.
To ruin a beautiful, clear, cool, never-failing stream of water in the desert! It was then that Belding's worry and indecision and brooding were as if they had never existed. As he strode swiftly back to the house, his head, which had long been bent thoughtfully and sadly, was held erect. He went directly to his room, and with an air that was now final he buckled on his gun belt.
Nothing but molasses and hot water helps the baby when he is having such a turn of colic. Beseems me he will have a fit! Make haste, Obed!" At that very moment Squire Belding's little daughter Hitty was travelling toward Mistress Ely's for the purpose of borrowing molasses wherewith to sweeten a ginger cake.
Next to his wife and daughter there was nothing so dear to him as those white horses. His father and grandfather all his progenitors of whom he had trace had been lovers of horses. It was in Belding's blood. "Laddy, before it's too late can't I get the whites away from the border?" "Mebbe it ain't too late; but where can we take them?" "To San Felipe?" "No. We've more chance to hold them here."
I wish this rebel war was over.... Well, here are the corrals and the fields. Gale, take a look at that bunch of horses!" Belding's last remark was made as he led his companions out of shady gardens into the open.
Simultaneously the rear ranks pressed forward. Fighting began the next instant. Belding's revolver barked viciously, while he shot low at legs and feet. Three men went down to be engulfed in the oncoming tide. Baudette was standing firm, his cold blue eyes alight with the fire of battle. His broad axe was cutting swift circles around him, while he dodged a shower of missiles.
They hung breathless and wide-eyed upon his words. Some one else was present at the latter part of Dick's narrative. The moment he became aware of Mrs. Belding's presence he remembered fancying he had heard her call, and now he was certain she had done so. Mercedes and Nell, however, had been and still were oblivious to everything except Dick's recital. He saw Mrs.
But she said to herself, with a tenderness which made her heart beat more than her lover's words, "How surprised he will be when I tell him he shall not go." The rustling of Mrs. Belding's ample approach broke in upon her trance and Farnham's litany.
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