Part 17 (2/2)
The car closed in on the horse. The girl leaned far out, s.n.a.t.c.hed the boy from the horse and climbed back into the car which now slowed up.
It was done in a second, so swiftly, so aptly that Kurt could only sit and gape with the sort of fore-knowledge that it must come out all right, as one gazes at a thrilling scene in a motion picture. When he came alongside the car, Gene looked up with a challenging grin. Francis, though pale and breathing quickly, wore a triumphant look. Pen's expression was entirely normal.
Kurt tried to speak, but his voice was dry in his throat.
”I stuck on, didn't I?” clamored Francis in satisfied tone.
Then Kurt recovered and began to reprimand the lad, but a certain sparkle in Pen's eyes as she clasped the lad to her restrained him.
He turned upon Gene.
”Did you know she was going to do that?”
”Sure!” was the confident reply. ”I knew she could do it.”
He flung Kingdon's racer into motion and slid on down the white ribbon of road to the ranch, while Kurt's little machine rattled and creaked and jolted along.
”He'll be sore at coming in after the black flag,” chuckled Gene. ”Kurt ain't used to being second, but I don't often get a chance at this car.”
Kurt didn't come up to the house all that day until long after the dinner hour. He found Pen alone in the invitingly-furnished sitting room, the amber light from a shaded lamp bringing out the gleaming gold in her hair.
She looked up with a shy smile of welcome, and instantly he felt the charm a woman could bring to a room like this--a room full of rest and harmony--a haven to a man wearied from the day's work.
He sat by the table opposite her--too content to desire his pipe.
”Where are they all?” he asked presently.
”Francis was tired and repentant after the excitement wore off and was quite ready to go to bed early. Billy and Betty followed suit. Mrs. Merlin has a headache.”
”How did you come to be riding with Gene this morning?” he asked abruptly.
”Mrs. Merlin asked us to go to her cottage for some things she needed. She thought Gene wouldn't be able to find them.”
The natural tone of her reply and her utter lack of surprise or resentment at his question quite appeased him.
”It's a little cool to-night,” he said suddenly. ”Wouldn't you like to have a fire?”
She thought it would be nice, and interestedly watched him build one in the big fireplace.
He formed a fortress of logs with the usual huge one for a background.
When he had a fire to his liking he came and sat beside her.
”That was wonderful--what you did this morning,” he said abruptly.
”No; it was simply instinctive.”
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