"Oh, well, it don't matter," the Ramblin' Kid finally said, wearily; "it don't matter, you're what you are an' I reckon you can't help it!"
Carolyn June said nothing.
"I—I—was goin' to turn th' filly back to th' range," he continued in the same emotionless voice, "but—well, you can have her—I'll trade her to you for—for—th' thing that started th' fight. You can ride th' maverick till you go back east—"
"I'm not going back east," she said in a hurt tone, "at least not for a long time. Dad is going to—to—get me a stepmother! He's going to marry some female person and he doesn't need me so I'm going to live—most of the time—with Uncle Josiah and Ophelia! Anyhow I—I—like it out west—or that is—I did like it—"
There was another little period of silence between them.
"Ramblin' Kid," Carolyn June spoke suddenly very softly, "Ramblin'
Kid—why—why do you hate me?"
"Me hate you?" he answered slowly. "I don't hate you—I hate myself!"
"Yourself?" with a questioning lift of her voice.
"Yes, myself!" he replied with a short, bitter laugh. "Why shouldn't
I—bein' an 'ign'rant, savage, stupid brute!'"
Carolyn June flinched as he repeated the cruel words she herself had spoken, it seemed, now so long ago.