Her Prairie Knight
going to buy your horse, Mr. Cameron, and now he's lost!"
This, though effective, was not particularly illuminating. Dick wanted details, and he got them—for Beatrice, having remorse to stir the dregs of memory, repeated nearly everything Dorman had said, even telling how the big, high pony put up his front hand, and he shaked it, and how Dorman truly needed some little wheels on his feet.
"Poor little devil," Keith muttered, with wet eyes.
"He—he said you lived over there," Beatrice finished, pointing, as Dorman had pointed—which was not toward the "Cross" ranch at all, but straight toward the river.
Keith wheeled Redcloud; there was no need to hear more. He took the hill at a pace which would have killed any horse but one bred to race over this rough country. Near the top, the forced breathing of another horse at his heels made him look behind. It was Beatrice following, her eyes like black stars. I do not know if Keith was astonished, but I do know that he was pleased.
"Where's Dick?" was all he said then.
"Dick's going to meet the men—the cowboys. Sir
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