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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I'd rather make you laugh than weep assuming that anybody would weep for me." "Oh, I'd have felt very badly if you'd been hurt," Marion assured him. "And you might have been, too." "No, a cropper like that's nothing. Peanuts isn't " He paused just a second to look into Marion's eyes with an expression that arrested her attention sharply. "Peanuts isn't Sunnysides."
Farrish and Pete went silently on with their work. They knew that eventually, dance and squirm as he might, the horse would be caught in one or the other of the relentless loops. And so it proved. While Sunnysides was side-stepping a throw by Farrish, Pete's rope slipped snakily over his head, and tightened around the arched neck.
"Well," he began in a drawling and sarcastic tone, "what " It probably would have been a cautious and covered insult to the presumed intelligence of the strangers, if he had finished the question. But it died away on his thin lips. His fishy, blue eyes had caught at last the gleam of Sunnysides, half in eclipse behind the dull-hued cow ponies.
He had once said jocularly that Sunnysides was not a real horse at all; that he was a demon a spirit. Well, it was a real horse, right enough, that had crushed him, and thrown him again, and broken Bill Craven's leg, and fled; and that was a real horse yonder, outlined against the sky.
Smythe looked at her silently; and presently, when she lowered her eyes, she saw that his face was very grave. But Haig was unhurt, and Sunnysides had escaped. She had prayed for just that. "What is it?" she cried, leaning forward to clutch his arm. "He's following." "Following?" "Yes. Alone." "Where?" "Yonder." He pointed to the west. "To the San Luis?" "Yes." "The way they brought him here?"
"No. Sunnysides has taken the trail over Thunder Mountain." Her hand fell from his arm. She swayed, as if she would collapse. Smythe grabbed her, with an arm around her waist, and led her, unresisting and dumb, to a near rock, where he seated her gently, and stood watching her. He had been too abrupt, he thought; but how else could he have told her? She struggled bravely.
Then he had hardened himself with every kind of labor around the ranch. For he was impatient to remove the stigma of doubt that Sunnysides had burned into his soul. He had told Marion that she was incapable of understanding why he must conquer Sunnysides. He was not sure that he understood it himself. But he knew that he must.
"'That's exactly what I do see, I replied. 'But Haig never whips those horses. "'That's none of your business, and Haig ain't carin' much now, he fired back at me. 'Get out o' my way, or I'll "'Now just keep cool! I told him. 'What's the trouble? "Craven snorted, but he told me, as the quickest way out of it. Haig had been hurt trying to ride Sunnysides. He's " "Hurt?
Giving him no time to recover, and no more breath than he actually required, Haig and Curly forced the bit of a bridle into the outlaw's foaming mouth. Then the noose on his hind feet was cautiously removed, one forefoot was freed, and the horse was allowed to rise. The next proceeding appeared to be resented by Sunnysides even more than what he had already been subjected to.
His head swam, and he had difficulty in arranging his impressions in any sort of orderly succession, especially those in which Sunnysides participated. "I wonder how much of it really happened!" he mused. Unexpectedly his eyes lighted on his revolver, where it lay among the stones at his side. Ah! It had burned his fingers. He picked it up, and examined it curiously.
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