for you, either; I need you." And, as he watched the departure of Joe Embry in the direction in which Beatrice had gone, suddenly the good humour came back up into his eyes. "Poor little Queen!" he chuckled. "Losing right and left right now, huh? Well, it won't hurt her and she'll get it back some day. We'll see to that, eh, Hurley?"
"How's that?" asked Hurley, not quite catching the drift of what Steele had said.
But the fuller explanation Steele made only to himself.
"I don't believe there's more than one girl in sixteen dozen tons of them," was his thought, "who could go through all this and come up like a new pin at the end of it. Your luck is trying you out, Trixie mine, and Bill Steele is lending a hand to make you the finest, real girl that ever was!"
But, as he waved his hand to Hurley and rode back toward the Goblet, he was thinking of how Beatrice's hand had laid on Joe Embry's arm. ...
