Another Sunday man and horse and dog roved the Piedmont
hills. And again Daylight and Dede rode together.
But this time her surprise at meeting him was tinctured
with suspicion; or rather, her surprise was of another
order. The previous Sunday had been quite accidental,
but his appearing a second time among her favorite
haunts hinted of more than the fortuitous. Daylight
was made to feel that she suspected him, and he, remembering
that he had seen a big rock quarry near Blair Park,
stated offhand that he was thinking of buying it.
His one-time investment in a brickyard had put the
idea into his head—an idea that he decided
was a good one, for it enabled him to suggest that
she ride along with him to inspect the quarry.
So several hours he spent in her company, in which
she was much the same girl as before, natural, unaffected,
lighthearted, smiling and laughing, a good fellow,
talking horses with unflagging enthusiasm, making
friends with the crusty-tempered Wolf, and expressing
the desire to ride Bob, whom she declared she was
more in love with than ever. At this last Daylight
demurred. Bob was full of dangerous tricks, and
he wouldn’t trust any one on him except his
worst enemy.
“You think, because I’m a girl, that I
don’t know anything about horses,” she
flashed back. “But I’ve been thrown
off and bucked off enough not to be over-confident.
And I’m not a fool. I wouldn’t get
on a bucking horse. I’ve learned better.
And I’m not afraid of any other kind.
And you say yourself that Bob doesn’t buck.”
“But you’ve never seen him cutting up
didoes,” Daylight said.
“But you must remember I’ve seen a few
others, and I’ve been on several of them myself.
I brought Mab here to electric cars, locomotives,
and automobiles. She was a raw range colt when
she came to me. Broken to saddle that was all.
Besides, I won’t hurt your horse.”
Against his better judgment, Daylight gave in, and,
on an unfrequented stretch of road, changed saddles
and bridles.
“Remember, he’s greased lightning,”
he warned, as he helped her to mount.
She nodded, while Bob pricked up his ears to the knowledge
that he had a strange rider on his back. The
fun came quickly enough—too quickly for
Dede, who found herself against Bob’s neck as
he pivoted around and bolted the other way. Daylight
followed on her horse and watched. He saw her
check the animal quickly to a standstill, and immediately,
with rein across neck and a decisive prod of the left
spur, whirl him back the way he had come and almost
as swiftly.
“Get ready to give him the quirt on the nose,”
Daylight called.
