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Perhaps Sandy had played with the wand of the grim old Company; had tasted the brews of the dear Fairy Godmother and he had bidden good-bye to the pretty girl-thing! It was very plain now; Sandy had accepted his life of duty in the hills, he had shut the door between him and his playroom. Just then Smith Crothers crossed The Way, lifting his hat as he did so, to Cynthia.
She took the box haughtily and walked with it over to her chair. But he came and kissed her. "Jealous of my mail? You foolish child. What a girl-thing you are! It doesn't matter, does it, how we train you or leave you untrained, you're all alike, you women, under your skins. Open your box and thank me prettily, and leave matters you don't understand alone. That's the way to talk, isn't it?"
He had had but one, the big, stern man whose sharp word had been his law the one who had ever had his best, his love and his speed. What was it now that rode in his saddle the saddle with the long dark stain? Assuredly it was not the slim girl-thing with the golden voice! El Rey had ever looked through, beyond her. Nay, it was something bigger, stronger, sterner who shall say?
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