Part 24 (2/2)
”Well, I reckon I'll ride over to the fur pasture; then I'll git home again jest about the time the folks come in from town.”
”No,” I said; ”come home with me first and have some breakfast, and get brushed up a little.”
”I will,” he replied, readily, adding, with a rueful glance at his torn clothing, ”I need a little mending done about as bad as any one I've seen lately.”
Guard and I walked along the ravine with him, while he led his horse.
On emerging from the ravine Mr. Horton suddenly stopped, and began looking anxiously around. ”That meat, now,” he observed, at length, ”it ought not to be left layin' around.”
I had put the poisoned meat up in the fork of a pine tree, and now showed it to him. ”We'd better dispose of it,” he said, taking it down. Reaching the house, I went on in to prepare breakfast for my unlooked-for guest, who lingered outside until his horse was cared for; then he came in, and, going straight to the stove, lifted the lid and dropped the meat on the glowing coals. ”There!” he exclaimed, replacing the lid, ”that bit of death won't hurt anything now.”
An hour afterward, washed, brushed, and partially mended--for I do hate mending, even in a righteous cause, like this--breakfasted, and with his horse equally refreshed, Mr. Horton rode away, looking like, and, I am sure, feeling like, another man.
Early in the afternoon I went over to the Wilsons', and brought Ralph back with me. Long before they could possibly arrive we were both watching for Jessie's and Joe's return. The stars were s.h.i.+ning big and bright, and Ralph was nodding sleepily in his high chair when the bays and the light wagon, with Jessie and Joe perched on the front seat, came rattling down the homeward road. s.n.a.t.c.hing Ralph, who was wide awake on the instant, up in my arms, I ran out to meet them.
”We didn't have one bit of trouble, Leslie!” cried Jessie, jubilantly, as the team stopped at the gate; ”Mr. Horton never came near us. I'm afraid we've been almost too ready to believe evil of him; but it won't matter now, anyway, for the land is ours, Leslie, ours!”
”Hit is so, honey, chile!” echoed old Joe's gentle voice. His black face was one expansive grin of satisfaction. ”Young Mas'r Ralph Gordon ain't nebber gwine want fur place to lay he head, now; yo' listen at dat!”
”Neither is Joe!” said Jessie, brightly, as she sprang to the ground.
”Every one has been so kind, Leslie,” she continued, as we turned back into the house, while Joe drove on to the barn with the horses. ”Lots of the neighbors were down there, besides our witnesses. I feel so cheered, Leslie, dear. We have so many friends.”
That was true, indeed; but, as time pa.s.sed, not one among them all proved to be more helpful, steadfast, and efficient than was our erstwhile enemy, Mr. Jacob Horton.
THE END
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