Bostil slept that night, but his sleep was troubled, and a strange, dreadful roar seemed to run through it, like a mournful wind over a dark desert.He was awakened early by a voice at his window.He listened.There came a rap on the wood.
"Bostil!...Bostil!" It was Holley's voice.
Bostil rolled off the bed.He had slept without removing any apparel except his boots.
"Wal, Hawk, what d'ye mean wakin' a man at this unholy hour?" growled Bostil.
Holley's face appeared above the rude sill.It was pale and grave, with the hawk eyes like glass."It ain't so awful early," he said."Listen, boss."Bostil halted in the act of pulling on a boot.He looked at his man while he listened.The still air outside seemed filled with low boom, like thunder at a distance.Bostil tried to look astounded.
"Hell!...It's the Colorado! She's boomin'!""Reckon it's hell all right--for Creech," replied Holley."Boss, why didn't you fetch them hosses over?"Bostil's face darkened.He was a bad man to oppose--to question at times.
"Holley, you're sure powerful anxious about Creech.Are you his friend?""Naw! I've little use fer Creech," replied Holley."An' you know thet.But Ihold for his hosses as I would any man's.""A-huh! An' what's your kick?"
"Nothin'--except you could have fetched them over before the flood come down.
That's all."
The old horse-trader end his right-hand rider looked at each other for a moment in silence.They understood each other.Then Bostil returned to the task of pulling on wet boots and Holley went away.
Bostil opened his door and stepped outside.The eastern ramparts of the desert were bright red with the rising sun.With the night behind him and the morning cool and bright and beautiful, Bostil did not suffer a pang nor feel a regret.
He walked around under the cottonwoods where the mocking-birds were singing.
The shrill, screeching bray of a burro split the morning stillness, and with that the sounds of the awakening village drowned that sullen, dreadful boom of the river.Bostil went in to breakfast.
He encountered Lucy in the kitchen, and he did not avoid her.He could tell from her smiling greeting that he seemed to her his old self again.Lucy wore an apron and she had her sleeves rolled up, showing round, strong, brown arms.
Somehow to Bostil she seemed different.She had been pretty, but now she was more than that.She was radiant.Her blue eyes danced.She looked excited.She had been telling her aunt something, and that worthy woman appeared at once shocked and delighted.But Bostil's entrance had caused a mysterious break in everything that had been going on, except the preparation of the morning meal.
"Now I rode in on some confab or other, that's sure," said Bostil, good-naturedly.
"You sure did, Dad," replied Lucy, with a bright smile.
"Wal, let me sit in the game," he rejoined.
"Dad, you can't even ante," said Lucy.
"Jane, what's this kid up to?" asked Bostil, turning to his sister.
"The good Lord only knows!" replied Aunt Jane, with a sigh.
"Kid?...See here, Dad, I'm eighteen long ago.I'm grown up.I can do as Iplease, go where I like, and anything....Why, Dad, I could get--married.""Haw! haw!" laughed Bostil."Jane, hear the girl.""I hear her, Bostil," sighed Aunt Jane.
"Wal, Lucy, I'd just like to see you fetch some fool love-sick rider around when I'm feelin' good," said Bostil.
Lucy laughed, but there was a roguish, daring flash in her eyes."Dad, you do seem to have all the young fellows scared.Some day maybe one will ride along--a rider like you used to be--that nobody could bluff....And he can have me!""A-huh!...Lucy, are you in fun?"
Lucy tossed her bright head, but did not answer.
"Jane, what's got into her?" asked Bostil, appealing to his sister.
"Bostil, she's in fun, of course," declared Aunt Jane."Still, at that, there's some sense in what she says.Come to your breakfast, now."Bostil took his seat at the table, glad that he could once more be amiable with his women-folk."Lucy, to-morrow'll be the biggest day Bostil's Ford ever seen," he said.
"It sure will be, Dad.The biggest SURPRISING day the Ford ever had," replied Lucy.
"Surprisin'?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Who's goin' to get surprised?"
"Everybody."
Bostil said to himself that he had been used to Lucy's banter, but during his moody spell of days past he had forgotten how to take her or else she was different.
"Brackton tells me you've entered a hoss against the field.""It's an open race, isn't it?"
"Open as the desert, Lucy," he replied."What's this hoss Wildfire you've entered?""Wouldn't you like to know?" taunted Lucy.
"If he's as good as his name you might be in at the finish....But, Lucy, my dear, talkin' good sense now--you ain't a-goin' to go up on some unbroken mustang in this big race?""Dad, I'm going to ride a horse."
"But, Lucy, ain't it a risk you'll be takin'--all for fun?""Fun!...I'm in dead earnest."
Bostil liked the look of her then.She had paled a little; her eyes blazed;she was intense.His question had brought out her earnestness, and straightway Bostil became thoughtful.If Lucy had been a boy she would have been the greatest rider on the uplands; and even girl as she was, superbly mounted, she would have been dangerous in any race.
"Wal, I ain't afraid of your handlin' of a hoss, " he said, soberly."An' as long as you're in earnest I won't stop you.But, Lucy, no bettin'.I won't let you gamble.""Not even with you?" she coaxed.
Bostil stared at the girl.What had gotten into her? "What'll you bet?" he, queried, with blunt curiosity.
"Dad, I'll go you a hundred dollars in gold that I finish one-- two--three."Bostil threw back his head to laugh heartily.What a chip of the old block she was! "Child, there's some fast hosses that'll be back of the King.You'd be throwin' away money."Blue fire shone in his daughter's eyes.She meant business, all right, and Bostil thrilled with pride in her.
"Dad, I'll bet you two hundred, even, that I beat the King!" she flashed.
