After an even more violent struggle than before the child’s form suddenly collapsed, and she began to cry. This worried Scott far more than her struggles.
“Don’t cry,” he begged her. “Where are you hurt and how did it happen?”
For a while she was silent save for her sobbing and when she spoke it was not to answer his question. “If you’ve got to take me somewhere,” she said in an uncertain voice, “take me to grandpa.”
Scott stopped the horse and looked at her doubtfully. “Why?” he asked.
“Because I ran away from home and never want to see my father again,” she retorted defiantly. “And it’s none of your business,” she added promptly.
Scott hesitated but he remembered what Mr. Sanders had said about her spending most of her time with her grandfather, and after the events of the afternoon he did not blame her for wanting to run away from her father. “Where does your grandfather live?” he asked.
“Up the mountain,” she replied.
Scott turned the old horse around and he plodded slowly upward. The light was already out when they passed Mr. Sanders’ cabin and all was still. The girl did not deign to speak and Scott maintained a dignified silence. They had traveled almost a mile when the girl spoke suddenly.
“If you say anything to granddad about that fight this afternoon, I’ll kill you.”
Scott had already promised Mr. Sanders not to tell but there was something he wanted to know. “How were you hurt this evening?” he asked again.