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Updated: May 1, 2025
He scurried to the buckboard and hopped in. Annersley rose and brought the trader up with him as though the latter were a bit of limp tie-rope. "And now we'll be driftin'," he told the other. Murder burned in the horse-trader's narrow eyes, but immediate physical ambition was lacking. Annersley bulked big. The horse-trader cursed the old man in two languages.
Well, I'm not very hard to find," he said, unconsciously repeating the answer he had made to the horse-trader's warning. "Couldn't you make out to go off somewheres for a little spell?" she asked half-pleadingly. "Run away, you mean? Hardly; I'm too busy just at present. Besides, I haven't any quarrel with your father. What's he making trouble about now?"
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