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Updated: June 12, 2025
Lucy's not to ride them hosses, least of all Buckles. He ain't safe even for a man." "Wal, he's safe fer Lucy." "But didn't I say no?" "Boss, it's likely you did, fer you talk a lot," replied Farlane. "Lucy pulled my hat down over my eyes told me to go to thunder an' then, zip! she an' Buckles were dustin' it fer the sage." "She's got to keep out of the sage," growled Bostil.
Old Horse, the Navajo, beamed benignly upon this daughter of the friend of the Indians. Silver, his brother chieftain, nodded as if he understood Bostil's pride and regret. Some of the young riders showed their hearts in their eyes. Farlane tried to look mysterious, to pretend he was in Lucy's confidence.
"An' he's harmless," added Farlane. "We ain't agreed," rejoined Bostil, quickly. "What do you say, Holley?" The old rider looked thoughtful and did not speak for long. "Wal, Yes an' no," he answered, finally. "I reckon Lucy could make a man out of Joel. But she doesn't care fer him, an' thet settles thet.... An' maybe Joel's leanin' toward the bad."
Mebbe them Indians can climb the hosses out of thet hole an' find water an' grass enough." "Mebbe," replied Van, doubtfully. "Sure them Piutes could if there's a chance. But there ain't any grass." "It won't take much grass travelin' by night." "So lots of the boys say. But the Navajos they shook their heads. An' Farlane an' Holley, why, they jest held up their hands."
"He smells of smoke," put in Farlane, who had knelt at the black's legs. "He's been runnin' fire. See thet! Fetlocks all singed!" All the riders looked, and then with grave, questioning eyes at one another. "Reckon thar's been hell!" muttered Holley, darkly. Some of the riders led the horses away toward the corrals. Bostil wheeled to face the north again.
"She'll be soary for't some day," said Janet, with a quiet smile; "an' what a body's sure to be soary for, ye may as weel forgie them at ance." "Hoo ken ye, mither, she'll be soary for't?" asked Nicie, not very willing to forgive Mistress Mac Farlane. "'Cause the Maister says 'at we'll hae to pey the uttermost fardin'. There's naebody 'ill be latten aff. We maun dee oor neiper richt."
"Why, Farlane!" returned Lucy, reproachfully. "Did I ever do a single thing around horses that you didn't want me to?" Farlane rubbed his chin beard somewhat dubiously. "Wal, Miss Lucy, not exactly while you was around the hosses. But I reckon when you onct got up, you've sorta forgot a few times." All the riders laughed, and Lucy joined them. "I'm safe when I'm up, you know that," she replied.
Davis's wile and greatness, a coming disputed election, quarrels between the people where I was born and the people where I was brought up, divisions and jealousies, floated before my mind in unlovely and confused visions. Then, remembering my father and my mother and Gary Mc Farlane, and others whom I had known, I spoke again. "Whatever the Southern people say, they will do, Dr. Sandford."
He was the kind of a horse that a child could have played around in safety. He never kicked. He never bit. He never bolted. It was splendid to see him with Farlane or with Bostil. He did not like Lucy very well, a fact that perhaps accounted for Lucy's antipathy. For that matter, he did not like any woman.
"But he must have seen it comin' an' left Sears to his fate. It sure was a fittin' last ride for a hoss-thief." Bostil sent Holley and Farlane on ahead to find Cordts and Hutchinson, with their comrades, to tell them the fate of Sears, and to warn them to leave before the news got to the riders. The sun was setting golden and red over the broken battlements of the canyons to the west.
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