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Updated: May 31, 2025
Swan had not told him of anything but the runaway, and of helping to carry Brit home and of the "damn funny thing about the chain" the rough-lock, he must have meant. Too well Lone understood the sinister meaning that probably lay behind that phrase. "They've started on the Quirt now," he told himself with foreboding. "She's been telling her father " Lone fell into bitter argument with himself.
Brit gave her a tolerant glance. "Where'd you see all that, Raine?" He moved to the table, picked up his pipe and knocked out the ashes on the stove hearth. His movements were those of an aging man yet Brit Hunter was not old, as age is reckoned. "Well in stories but it was reasonable and logical and possible, just the same. If you use your brains you can outwit them, and if you have any nerve "
The Dravidian people in southern India, made up of non-Aryans, number at present forty-six millions. Brit., Arts. India, Brahmanism, Buddhism. Of their beginnings, there is no record. It is not likely that they came down the river from the south, as some have thought; more probably they were of Asiatic origin.
Lorraine jumped out and ran to meet them, hoping and fearing that her hope was foolish. That car might easily be only Bob Warfield on some errand of no importance. Still, she hoped. "That you, Raine? Where's Brit? What's all this about Brit being hurt? A doctor from Shoshone " "A doctor? Oh, did a doctor come, then? Oh, help Swan carry dad in! I'm oh, I'm afraid he's awfully injured!"
And as the years passed and their address remained the same, Brit became fixed in the belief that the Casa Grande was all that its name implied, and perhaps more. Minnie must be getting rich. She had a picture of the place on the stationery which Lorraine used when she wrote him. There were two palm trees in front, with bay windows behind them, and pillars.
It may have been the difference in the sound of the wagon and the impact of the horses' hoofs on the rocky trail. She turned and saw that something had gone wrong. They were coming down upon her at a sharp trot, stepping high, the wagon tongue thrust up between their heads as they tried to hold back the load. Brit yelled to her then to get out of the way, and his voice was harsh and insistent.
He jumped the fence and got away on me, day before yesterday. I'd like to catch him up again. He'll make a good horse." Al had not seen the bay, and the talk tapered off desultorily to a final "So-long, see yuh later." Lone rode on, careful not to look back. So she was Brit Hunter's girl!
"I've driven four horses I guess I can drive two, all right." "Well, you ain't going to," Brit stated with a flat finality that abruptly ended the argument. Lorraine had never before been really angry with her father.
Brit, he reasoned, could not have known before he started that his rough-lock had been tampered with, else he would have fixed it. Neither was Brit the man to forget the brake on his load. If Brit lived, he might talk as much as he pleased, but he could never prove that his accident had been deliberately staged with murderous intent.
Lorraine stared after him wide-eyed, wondering and yet not daring to wonder. Her father called to her fretfully, and she went in to him again and told him what Sorry had said about the cracked doubletree, and persuaded him to let her bring his supper at once, and to have the fruit later when Frank arrived. Brit did not say much, but she sensed his uneasiness, and her own increased in proportion.
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