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to feel sure she did not care for Slone。
〃DadI said'No'for myself；〃 she murmured。
This time Bostil did not withhold the profane word of surprise。 〃。 。 。 So he's
asked you； then？ Wal； wal！ When？〃
〃To…dayout there in the rocks where he waited with Wildfire for me。
Hehe〃
Lucy slipped into her father's arms； and her slender form shook。 Bostil
instinctively felt what she then needed was her mother。 Her mother was dead；
and he was only a rough； old； hard rider。 He did not know what to doto say。
His heart softened and he clasped her close。 It hurt him keenly to realize
that he might have been a better； kinder father if it were not for the fear
that she would find him out。 But that proved he loved her； craved her respect
and affection。
〃Wal； little girl； tell me；〃 he said。
〃Hehe broke his word to me。〃
〃A…huh！ Thet's too bad。 An' how did he？〃
〃Hehe〃 Lucy seemed to catch her tongue。
Bostil was positive she had meant to tell him something and suddenly changed
her mind。 Subtly the child vanisheda woman remained。 Lucy sat up
self…possessed once more。 Some powerfully impelling thought had transformed
her。 Bostil's keen sense gathered that what she would not tell was not hers to
reveal。 For herself； she was the soul of simplicity and frankness。
〃Days ago I told him I cared for him； she went on。 〃But I forbade him to speak
of it to me。 He promised。 I wanted to wait till after the racetill after I
had found courage to confess to you。 He broke his word。 。 。 。 Today when he
put me up on Wildfire hehe suddenly lost his head。〃
The slow scarlet welled into Lucy's face and her eyes grew shamed； but bravely
she kept facing her father。
〃Hehe pulled me offhe hugged mehe k…kissed me。 。 。 。 Oh； it was
dreadful…shameful！ 。 。 。 Then I gave him backsomesomething he had given
me。 And I told him II hated himand I told him； 'No！'〃
〃But you rode his hoss in the race；〃 said Bostil。
Lucy bowed her head at that。 〃II couldn't resist！〃
Bostil stroked the bright head。 What a quandary for a thick…skulled old
horseman！ 〃Wal； it seems to me Slone didn't act so bad； considerin'。 You'd
told him you cared for him。 If it wasn't for thet！ 。 。 。 I remember I did much
the same to your mother。 She raised the devil； but I never seen as she cared
any less for me。〃
〃I'll never forgive him；〃 Lucy cried； passionately。 〃I hate him。 A man who
breaks his word in one thing will do it in another。〃
Bostil sadly realized that his little girl had reached womanhood and love； and
with them the sweet； bitter pangs of life。 He realized also that here was a
crisis when a wordan unjust or lying word from him would forever ruin any
hope that might still exist for Slone。 Bostil realized this acutely； but the
realization was not even a temptation。
〃Wal； listen。 I'm bound to confess your new rider is sure swift。 An'； Lucy；
to…day if he hadn't been as swift with a rope as he is in lovewal； your old
daddy might be dead！〃
She grew as white as her dress。 〃Oh； Dad！ I KNEW something had happened；〃 she
cried； reaching for him。
Then Bostil told her how Dick Sears had menaced himhow Slone had foiled the
horse…thief。 He told the story bluntly； but eloquently； with all a rider's
praise。 Lucy rose with hands pressed against her breast。 When had Bostil seen
eyes like thosedark； shining； wonderful？ Ah！ he remembered her mother's
onceonly once； as a girl。
Then Lucy kissed him and without a word fled from the room。
Bostil stared after her。 〃Dn me！〃 he swore； as he threw a boot against the
wall。 〃I reckon I'll never let her marry Slone； but I just had to tell her
what I think of him！〃
CHAPTER XIV
Slone lay wide awake under an open window； watching the stars glimmer through
the rustling foliage of the cottonwoods。 Somewhere a lonesome hound bayed。
Very faintly came the silvery tinkle of running water。
For five days Slone had been a guest of Bostil's； and the whole five days had
been torment。
On the morning of the day after the races Lucy had confronted him。 Would he
ever forget her eyesher voice？ 〃Bless you for saving my dad！〃 she had said。
〃It was brave。 。 。 。 But don't let dad fool you。 Don't believe in his
kindness。 Above all； don't ride for him！ He only wants Wildfire； and if he
doesn't get him he'll hate you！〃
That speech of Lucy's had made the succeeding days hard for Slone。 Bostil
loaded him with gifts and kindnesses； and never ceased importuning him to
accept his offers。 But for Lucy； Slone would have accepted。 It was she who
cast the first doubt of Bostil into his mind。 Lucy averred that her father was
splendid and good in every way except in what pertained to fast horses； there
he was impossible。
The great stallion that Slone had nearly sacrificed his life to catch was like
a thorn in the rider's flesh。 Slone lay there in the darkness； restless； hot；
rolling from side to side； or staring out at the star…studded skymiserably
unhappy all on account of that horse。 Almost he hated him。 What pride he had
felt in Wildfire！ How he had gloried in the gift of the stallion to Lucy！
Then； on the morning of the race had come that unexpected； incomprehensible
and wild act of which he had been guilty。 Yet not to save his life； his soul；
could he regret it！ Was it he who had been responsible； or an unknown savage
within him？ He had kept his word to Lucy； when day after day he had burned
with love until that fatal moment when the touch of her； as he lifted her to
Wildfire's saddle； had made a madman out of him。 He had swept her into his
arms and held her breast to his； her face before him； and he had kissed the
sweet； parting lips till he was blind。
Then he had learned what a little fury she was。 Then he learned how he had
fallen； what he had forfeited。 In his amaze at himself； in his humility and
shame； he had not been able to say a word in his own defense。 She did not know
yet that his act had been ungovernable and that he had not known what he was
doing till too late。 And she had finished with： 〃I'll ride Wildfire in the
racebut I won't have himand I won't have YOU！ NO！〃
She had the steel and hardness of her father。
For Slone； the watching of that race was a blend of rapture and despair。 He
lived over in mind all the time between the race and this hour when he lay
there sleepless and full of remorse。 His mind was like a racecourse with many
races； and predominating in it was that swift； strange； stinging race of his
memory of Lucy Bostil's looks and actions。
What an utter fool he was to believe she had meant those tender words when；
out there under the looming monuments； she had accepted Wildfire！ She had been
an impulsive child。 Her scorn and fury that morning of the race had left
nothing for him except footless fancies。 She had mistaken love of Wildfire for
love of him。 No； his case was hopeless with Lucy； and if it had not been so
Bostil would have made it hopeless。 Yet there were things Slone could not
fathomthe wilful； contradictory； proud and cold and unaccountably sweet
looks and actions of the girl。 They haunted Slone。 They made him conscious he
had a mind and tortured him with his development。 But he had no experience
with girls to compare with what was happening now。 It seemed that accepted
fact and remembered scorn and cold certainty were somehow at variance with
hitherto unknown intuitions and instincts。 Lucy avoided him； if by chance she
encountered him alone。 When Bostil or Aunt Jane or any one else was present
Lucy was kind； pleasant； agreeable。 What made her flush red at sight of him
and then； pale？ Why did she often at table or in the big living…room softly
brush against him when it seemed she could have avoided that？ Many times he
had felt some inconceivable drawing power； and looked up to find her eyes upon
him； strange eyes full of mystery； that were suddenly averted。 Was there any
meaning attachable to the fact that his room was kept so tidy and neat； that
every day something was added to its comfort or color； that he found fresh
flowers whenever he returned； or a book； or fruit； or a dainty morsel to eat；
and once a bunch of Indian paint…brush； wild flowers of the desert that Lucy
knew he loved？ Most of all； it was Lucy's eyes which haunted Sloneeyes that
had changed； darkened； lost their audacious flash； and yet seemed all the
sweeter。 The glances he caught； which he fancied were stolen and then
derided his fancythrilled him to his heart。 Thus Slone had spent waking
hours by day and night； mad with love and remorse； tormented one hour by
imagined grounds for hope and resigned to despair the next。
Upon the sixth morning of his stay at Bostil's Slone rose with something of
his former will reasserting itself。 He could not remain in Bostil's home any
longer unless he accepted Bostil's offer； and this was not to be thought of。
With a wrench Slone threw off the softening indecision and hurried out to find
Bostil while the determination was hot。
Bostil was in the corral with Wildfire。 This was the second time Slone had
found him there。 Wildfire appeared to regard Bostil with a much better favor
than he did his master。 As Slone noted this a little heat stole along his
veins。 That was gall to a rider。
〃I like y