Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 15, 2025
Possibly, also, he recalled at that moment the obligation under which Zen's accident had placed him. At any rate he wound up rather lamely. "Grant," he said, "if I want that hay next year I'll cut it, spite o' hell an' high water." "All right, Y.D.," said Grant, cheerfully. "We'll see. Now, if you can spare me a horse to ride home, I'll have him sent back immediately."
An' as for comin' down to meet me, what's the odds, so long as we've met?" He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When Zen's horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. "Will you let go?" the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, but in a white passion. "Will you let go of that bridle, or shall I make you?" He looked her full in the face.
"I just want to make sure them boys is hittin' the high spots. The grass is gettin' powerful dry an' you can never tell what may happen." "You're on," the girl replied across the breakfast table. Her mother looked up sharply. She wondered if the prospect of another meeting with Transley had anything to do with Zen's alacrity.
"He was all right this afternoon, but he was reckless then with a hard gallop." Zen's horse trotted forward at her urging to within a dozen yards of the circle of fire. Then he stopped, snorting and shivering. She rode back up the hill. "Better blindfold him," Grant advised, pulling off his leather coat. "A sleeve of my shirt should be about right. Will you cut it off?" She protested.
Here was something at least akin to home. As he was arranging the books on his shelf the clipping with the account of Zen's wedding fell to the floor. He sat down in his chair and read it slowly through. Later he went out for a walk. It was in his long walks that Grant found the only real comfort of his new life.
Y.D. always pretended that such invasions were quite accidental, and affected a fine indifference to all this "women's fuss an' feathers," but his affectations deceived at least none of the older visitors. As the great day approached Y.D.'s wife shot a bomb-shell at him. "What do you propose to wear for Zen's wedding?" she demanded. "What's the matter with the suit I go to town in?"
Mrs. Lint, however, was little less thankful for Zen's interest than she would have been had their little steading been in danger. She pressed Zen to wait and have at least a cup of tea, and the girl, knowing that she could be of little or no service down the valley, allowed herself to be persuaded. In this little harbor of quiet her mind began to arrange the day's events.
I'm afraid Drazk is as irresponsible as ever, provided he hasn't passed out, which is more than likely." Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs and Mrs. Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination he may have felt to linger over Zen's hand was checked by her quick withdrawal of it, and there was something in her manner quite beyond his understanding.
"Y.D.," said his wife, kindly, "there are certain little touches which you overlook. Your town suit is all right for selling steers, although I won't say that it hasn't outlived its prime even for that. To attend Zen's wedding it is hardly the thing." "It's been a good suit," he protested. "It is " "It HAS. It is also a venerable suit. But really, Y.D., it will not do for this occasion.
He was to enter Zen's house on her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of husband and parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a sensible girl. Then there was a reference to that ancient squabble in the hay meadow. It was evidently her plan to see the hatchet buried and friendly relations established all around. Eminently proper and sensible.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking