Part 12 (2/2)

”He takes it pretty cool,” said Strout to Hiram. ”If she was my sister I'd ring the church h.e.l.l, make up a party, and go in search of her dead body, for that's what they'll come back with.”

”I don't take no stock in that,” remarked Hiram. ”She's used to horses, and she's a mighty bright, independent girl. She'll come home all right.”

”No doubt she's independent enough,” retorted Strout. ”That runs in the family. But the horse, it seems, was independent too. Perhaps the Guv'nor will have a boxing match with him for his independence to a Sawyer.”

As Hiram went back into the store he said to himself: ”That Strout's only a half-converted sinner anyway. He'll never forget the thras.h.i.+ng that Mr. Sawyer gave his man, Bob Wood.”

Quincy had Alice go to her room, for she was agitated and extremely nervous, and he asked Mrs. Hawkins to look out for her until his return.

With Andrew's help, the carryall was soon ready and Quincy drove to the store. What was his surprise to find Maude there, still on her horse, and apparently uninjured. With her, also on horseback was an attractive girl, a stranger to Quincy.

”I'm all right, Quincy,” Maude cried as he alighted, ”but there would have been a funeral but for this young lady.”

Quincy, with hat in hand, bowed to the stranger. ”I am deeply grateful for your valuable service, madam. To whom are we indebted for my sister's rescue from death?”

The young lady smiled, showing a set of even, white teeth. ”Not so great a service after all. Your sister is a good horsewoman. If she hadn't been, she would have been thrown long before I reached her.”

”But your name, Madam,” persisted Quincy. ”Her father will wish to know, and to thank you.”

”My name when in Fernborough is Mrs. Emmanuel Howe. When I'm on the stage, it is Dixie Schaffer. I was born in the South. My father was Col.

Hugh Schaffer of Pasquotank County, North Carolina.”

”My father and all of us will feel under great obligations to you.”

”I hope he will not. I have no objections to receiving his thanks in writing, if he is disposed to send them, which I think unnecessary as you are his representative. But kindly caution him not to suggest or send any reward, for it will be returned.” She bowed to Quincy, turned her horse's head and rode away.

As Strout entered the store he said to himself, ”Bully for her. She don't bow down to money. She's got brains.”

A few days later, however, Miss Dixie Schaffer was the recipient from the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer of a beautiful gold pendant in the shape of a horseshoe, set with pearls. If one could have glanced at a stub in the lawyer's check book, he would have found the name of a prominent jeweller, and the figures $300. It is needless to add that the gift was not returned to the donor. When Alice saw that Maude had escaped without injury, she soon recovered her equanimity.

”How did it happen, Maude?” asked Quincy. ”Alice says you gave the horse a sharp blow.”

”I must have hit her harder than I intended--but I was thinking of the race more than of her. Didn't she run, hurrah-ti-cut, as Mrs. Hawkins says? I was bound I'd keep on her back unless she fell down or ran into something, and I did. I wasn't foolish enough to jump and land on my head.

”When we got to the main road, I didn't know which way to turn--I mean I couldn't think. She settled the matter by turning to the right, which was very fortunate, but I didn't know I was on the road to Dixie.”

”Maude, you're incorrigible,” laughed Alice.

”No, I'm a sensation. I was full of them as I dashed on. But she was a well-bred horse and kept in the middle of the road. Then, to my joy, I saw Dixie ahead. As I went by her I yelled--yes, yelled--'she's running away.'

”Dixie yelled--yes, yelled--'Hold on, I'll catch you.' She did, but we ran more than a mile before she got even with me, grasped my horse's bridle, and pulled her round so quickly that I came near landing in the bushes. And here I am.”

”You must not ride her again,” said Alice.

”That's just what I am going to do. I'm not going to deprive that horse of my company, when it was all my fault. No more whip, she needs only the voice--and little of that.”

”Alice,” said Quincy, ”Mr. Strout has invited us to dinner. He will be offended unless his invitation is accepted.”

”I don't feel equal to meeting that man in his own house. I cannot bear him even at long range. Take Maude.”

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