“It’s the outdoor life does that. Take a field-bred lad, he always shies a bit at people.”
“Your horse does, too, I notice. He arrived safely a week ago, and I put him up at the livery here in Lafferton. I was afraid he would demoralize all the horses at the farm.”
“Good! I’ll ride out this evening. I have a little business to attend to here in town, and I want to see the Judge and his wife, of course.”
When the western sky line gleamed in crimson glory Joe came riding at a long lope up the lane. He sat his spirited horse easily, one leg thrown over the horn of his saddle. As he neared the house, a thrashing machine started up. The desert-bred horse shied, and performed maneuvers terrifying to Janey, but Joe in the saddle was ever a part of the horse. Quietly and impassively he guided the frightened animal until the machine was passed. Then he slid from the horse and came up to Janey and David, who were awaiting his coming. 166
“This can never be little Janey!” he exclaimed, holding her hand reverently.
“I haven’t changed as much as Davey has,” she replied, dimpling.
“Oh, yes, you have! You are a woman. David is still a boy, in spite of his six feet.”
“You don’t know about Davey!” she said breathlessly. “He has won all kinds of law cases, and he is going to the legislature.”
Joe laughed.
“I repeat, he is still a boy.”