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Updated: June 11, 2025
"You're quite right about that!" returned the young man promptly. "We can only mount again, and go as fast as my miserable beast can travel, hoping for some chance to come our way. We have the advantage of not being in the stage where Kimball could keep an eye on us." "I ought to be more thankful for that than I am," Lahoma sighed.
How different the girls of fifteen or sixteen such as he had known in the city or in sophisticated villages in the East! Lahoma had not been so engrossed by trivial activities of exacting days that she had lacked time for thought. Her housekeeping cares were few and devoid of routine, leaving most of the hours of each day for reading, for day-dreaming, for absorbed meditation.
When I got anything to say, I just follows the easiest way, knowing I'll get to the end of it if I talk constant. People in the big world ain't no more natural in talking than in anything else. They builds up fences and arbitrary walls, and is careful to stay right in the middle of the beaten path, and I'm all time keeping Bill busy at putting up the bars after me, so Lahoma will go straight."
As they galloped from the cabin, from whose door looked astonished faces, Lahoma answered his thought "Up there," she said, nodding her head toward the East, "I dressed for people but out here, for wind and sand." Looking back, she saw the family running out of the cottage, waving handkerchiefs and bonnets as in the mad joy of congratulation.
The young man read it hastily, then turned to Bill. His face wore a decidedly puzzled look. "I don't understand," he said. "Neither do I," returned Bill rather blankly. "I guess if there is to be any setting down, it's Brick that needs a chair." The telegram was as follows: "The second you get this, hide for your life. Red Kimball says he can prove everything. Will explain in letter. "Lahoma."
As he listened to her bright suggestions, and noted her living eyes, her impulsive gestures for she could not talk without making little movements with her hands and her flexible sympathetic voice, he saw her moving about a well-ordered household.... It was on his farm, of course; and the house was his, and she was his Lahoma....
Brick Willock rode over to Mangum nearly every afternoon to hear from Lahoma, but it happened that on the day of the great news, neither he nor Bill had returned from a certain hunting expedition in time for the stage, so Wilfred went for the mail. There was only one letter, addressed to "Mr. B. Willock," and it seemed strangely thin.
But his forced cheerfulness suddenly changed to real congratulation when his extended hand struck against an upright wheel. "Lahoma, here's the stage-coach. It's standing just as we saw it last, except for the horses." "The stage-coach!" she marveled, coming toward him. "Oh, Wilfred, I see now what's happened.
She'd insist on taking him along. But he belongs to another age a different country. He couldn't understand. He thinks when you've anything against a man, the proper move is to kill 'im. He's just like an Indian a wild beast. Wouldn't know what we meant if we talked about civilization. His religion is the knife. Well you see; if he were out of the way, Lahoma would have her chance."
They had not gone five miles before the large woman and her younger sister were in love with Lahoma but it hadn't taken Wilfred five miles.
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