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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Please explain," Carolyn June said, "although," demurely, with certain memories fresh in her mind, "I fancy I can almost guess " "Yesterday," Ophelia continued rather breathlessly, "we arrived at the Quarter Circle KT; last night at the supper table I met Mr.
Turning his horse toward the house, when he reached the end of the lane and with but a glance at the trio standing at the barn, the Ramblin' Kid rode straight to the back-yard gate. Old Heck and the cowboys hurried across the open space and reached the gate just as Carolyn June rather stiffly dismounted from the little roan.
She still looked slim and frail, but she was beginning to show signs of waxing health very pleasant to see for those who had grown as interested in her as if she were a young sister of their own. "I've an invitation for you from Carolyn Houghton for an impromptu sleigh-ride to-night. Don't you suppose you can go? I'll take all sorts of care of you and see that you don't get too tired.
When the Ramblin' Kid, working the rope-conquered and leg-weary Gold Dust maverick from the North Springs back to the Quarter Circle KT, crossed the Cimarron at dawn Captain Jack and the filly swam a raging, drift-burdened river. Less than twelve hours later Carolyn June and Skinny, at the lower ford, rode into a stream that again was normal.
"You are wise, Sing Pete," Carolyn June laughed as she left the kitchen by the back door and started toward the corral where the Gold Dust maverick was restlessly pacing about. "Don't do it any more!
The instant she was where he could reach her he whirled Captain Jack and rode quickly back. Carolyn June was trying to get to her feet when he sprang from the broncho and helped her to the firm ground on which he stood. She was panting and exhausted. "Get get Old Blue out!" she gasped and dropped limply down on the grass, fingering at the rope to remove it from around her body.
In the shed at the side of the corral, on the spot where, that first morning, the Ramblin' Kid's saddle had rested and the cowboy slept, Carolyn June's own riding gear was lying. She glanced at the outfit For a second she fancied she saw again the slender form stretched in the shadow upon the ground while a pair of black inscrutable eyes looked with unfathomable melancholy up into her own.
"I don't hate you I hate myself!" "Yourself?" with a questioning lift of her voice. "Yes, myself!" he replied with a short, bitter laugh. "Why shouldn't I bein' an 'ign'rant, savage, stupid brute!" Carolyn June flinched as he repeated the cruel words she herself had spoken, it seemed, now so long ago.
Carolyn June was stunned for a moment by the thought that had come into her mind when the picture of the burly Greek flashed before her. She clenched her hands and her cheeks whitened. "Come on, Skinny!" she said suddenly, stepping off the running-board of the car and swinging on to Red John, "we'll go help look for the Ramblin' Kid!"
"Now I guess we are all acquainted," Carolyn June said with a little laugh. "It's easy for folks to get acquainted, isn't it?" turning suddenly to Skinny. "Seems like it after they once get started," Skinny answered. "We'd better be heading for home I reckon," Old Heck said, releasing at last the widow's hand and lifting the bags in the car.
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