Part 6 (1/2)

Twelve miles out he came to a fork in the road. Which trail? One led up a steep hill, the other down into the river valley, soft-veiled in the late suns.h.i.+ne. Which trail? He could seem to see Roberta choosing the hill and putting her horse up it, while Ruth called out that the valley road was better. With a sense of exhilaration he sent the car up the hill, remembering that from the top was a broad view sure to be worth while on a day like this. Besides, up here he might be able to see far ahead and discern the party somewhere in the distance.

Just over the brow he came upon them where they had camped by the roadside. It was a road quite off the line of travel and they were a hundred feet back among a clump of pine trees, their horses tied to the fence-rail. A bonfire sent up a pungent smoke half veiling the figures.

But the car had come roaring up the hill, and they were all looking his way. Two of the horses had plunged a little at the sudden noise, and Ted ran forward. Richard stopped his engine, triumphant, his pulses quickening with a bound.

”Oh, hullo!” cried Ted in joyful excitement. ”Where'd you come from, Mr.

Kendrick? Isn't this luck!”

”This is certainly luck,” responded Richard, doffing his hat as the figures by the fire moved his way, the one in brown coming quickly, the one in green rather more slowly. ”Your uncle released me at three and I rushed for the open. What a day!”

”Isn't it wonderful?” Ruth came up to the brown mare, which was eying the big car with some resentment. She patted the velvet nose as she spoke. ”Don't you mind, Bess,” she reproached the mare. ”It's nothing but a puffing, noisy car. It's not half so nice as you.”

She smiled up at Richard and he smiled back. ”I rather think you're right,” he admitted. ”I used to think myself there was nothing like a good horse. I'd like to exchange the car for one just now; I'm sure of that.”

”It wouldn't buy any one of ours.” Roberta, coming up, glanced from the big machine to the trio of interested animals, all of which were keeping watchful eyes on the intruder. ”Nonsense, Colonel,--stand still!”

”I don't want to buy one of yours; I want one of my own, to ride back with you--if you'd let me.”

”Anyhow, you can stop and have a bite with us,” said Ted, with a sudden thought. ”Can't he, Rob?”

Roberta smiled. ”If he is as hungry as he looks.”

”Do I look hungry?”

”Starving. So do we, no doubt. Come and have some sandwiches.”

”We're going to toast them,” explained Ruth, walking back to the fire with Richard when he had leaped with alacrity over the fence, his hat left behind, his brown head s.h.i.+ning in the sun, his face happier than any of his fellow-clubmen had seen it in a year, as they would have been quick to notice if any of them had come upon him now. ”We have ginger ale, too; do you like ginger ale?”

”Immensely!” Richard eyed the preparations with interest. ”How do you toast your sandwiches?”

”On forks of wood; Ted's going to cut them.”

”Please let me.” And the guest fell to work. He found a keen enjoyment in preparing these implements, and afterward in the process of toasting, which was done every-one-for-himself, with varying degrees of success.

The sandwiches were filled with a rich cheese mixture, and the result of toasting them was a toothsome morsel most gratifying to the hungry palate.

”One more?” urged Ruth, offering Richard the nearly empty box which had contained a good supply.

”Thank you--no; I've had seven,” he refused, laughing. ”Nothing ever tasted quite so good. And I'm an interloper.”

”Here's to the interloper!” Ruth raised her gla.s.s and drank the last of her ginger ale. ”We always provide for one. Usually it's a small boy.”

”More often a pair of them. And always there are Bess, Colonel, and Sheik.” Roberta rose to her feet, the last three sandwiches in hand, and walked away to the horses tied to the fence-rail.

Richard's eyes followed her. In the austere lines of her riding-habit he could see more clearly than he had yet done what a superb young image of health and energy she was.

”Rob adores horses,” Ruth remarked, looking after her sister also. ”You ought to see her ride cross-country. My Bess can't jump, but her Colonel can. I don't believe there's anything in sight Rob and Colonel couldn't jump. But I can never get used to seeing her; I have to shut my eyes when Colonel rises, and I don't open them till I hear him land. But he's never fallen with her, and she says he never will.”

”He won't.”

”Why not? Any horse might, you know, if he slipped on wet ground or something.”