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Updated: September 14, 2025
He was back at his horse, and in a moment they heard the clatter of hoofs galloping down the hillside. The girl sat on the ground and rested her father's head in her lap. Tears made her bright eyes brighter still. "Don't cry, Reenie," he said, gently. "We are very lucky to be so close to help.
He had much to say; he felt that the ages could not utter all he had to say to-night, but he was tongue-tied under the spell of her beauty. "You squelched him, all right," he broke out at length. "Just in time, too, I think," she replied. "I was watching your hands." He smiled a quiet but very confident smile. "Reenie," he said, "that fellow makes me sick. All the way out he talked about girls.
Perhaps " "It all depends on one thing," Dave interrupted. "What is that?" "It all depends on whether we are Miss Hardy and Mr. Elden, or whether we are still Reenie and Dave." Her bright eyes had fallen to the floor, and he could see the tremor of her fingers as they rested on the back of a chair. She did not answer him directly. But in a moment she spoke. "Mother will buy the house from Mr.
"Twenty," thought Dave to himself. "Reenie must be about twenty now." "And I was five when when Jack died," she went on. "Jack was my brother, you know. He was seven, and a great boy for his daddy. Most boys run to their mother with their hurts, but Jack was different.
And when she preferred to ride without Forsyth it did not occur to Elden that she preferred to ride with him. They were soon in the country, and Edith, leading, swung from the road to a bridle trail that followed the winding of the river. As her graceful figure drifted on ahead it seemed more than ever reminiscent of Reenie Hardy. What rides they had had on those foothill trails!
And there was more than that; there was an air, a spirit, an atmosphere that Dave could feel although he could not define it; a sense that everything was all right. He soon found himself talking with Mrs. Duncan about horses, and then about his old life on the ranch, and then about coming to town. Almost, before he knew it, he had told her about Reenie Hardy, but he had checked himself in time.
It had made him think of spring and the deep woods . . . and water . . . and wood smoke. . . It was about a far away land . . . and Reenie Hardy. She was very like Reenie Hardy. . . Fortunate Fate, or whatever good angel it is that sometimes drops unexpected favours, designed that young Elden should the following day deliver coal at the home of Mr. Melvin Duncan. Mr.
That is for you to answer. Whom did she meet?" "If you would find a Hamlet at the root of this melancholy you must ask our Ophelia. She met no one with me. My accident left me to enjoy my holiday as best I could at a ranch deep in the foothills, and Reenie stayed with me there. There was no one else " "No one? No ranch men, cowboys, cow punchers I think I have heard," with nice disdain. "No.
It was Reenie Hardy who had asked that question. And he recalled his answer, "I don't know nothin' about the justice of God. All I know is the crittur 'at can't run gets caught." Was he then in sympathy with this doctrine of cruelty, without knowing it? No. No! Reenie Hardy had believed in justice, and he would believe in the same.
"I think your father is a wonderful old man," she said, "and your mother must have been wonderful, too. You should be proud of them both." "Reenie, do you mean that?" he demanded. His eyes were looking straight into hers. Once before he had faced her with that question, and she had not forgotten. "Absolutely," she answered. "Absolutely, I mean it."
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