The answer came to her late that night, after Calumet had retired. Betty and Dade were in the kitchen; Malcolm and Bob were in the sitting-room. Betty had taken Dade into her confidence and had related to him the happenings of the day—so far as she could without acquainting him with the state of her feelings toward Calumet.
"So he can ride some?" commented Dade, after she had told him about the black. "I reckon he'd bust that horse or break his neck. But he was in bad shape when he rode in—almost fell out of the saddle, an' staggered scandalous when he walked. All in. Didn't make a whimper, though. Clear grit. He grinned at me when he turned the black into the corral.
"'Does that cayuse look busted?' he said.
"I allowed he had that appearance, an' he laughed.
"'I've give Betty Blackleg,' he said. 'I've got tired of him.'"
Betty's disappointment showed in her eyes; she had suspected that Calumet had had another reason. She had hoped—
"I reckon, though, that that wasn't his real reason," continued Dade; "he wasn't showin' all of his hand there."
"What makes you think that?" asked Betty, trying not to blush.
"Well," said Dade, "I was walkin' round the stable a while ago, just nosin' around without any purpose, an' walkin' slow. When I got to the corner, not makin' any noise, I saw Calumet standin' in front of the stable door, talkin'. There was nobody around him—nothin' but Blackleg, an' so I reckon he was talkin' to Blackleg. Sure enough he was. He puts his head up against Blackleg's head, an' he said, soft an' low, kinda:
"'Blackleg,' he said; 'I've give you away. I hated like poison to do it, but I reckon Betty'll look a heap better on you than she does on that skate she rode today. Damn that black devil!' he said, 'I wouldn't have took the job of breakin' him for any other woman in the world.'