"Don't touch him!" Ann said resolutely. "I can manage him." And to the horse, "You idiot, you! Sho, now, Billy—quiet, suh—quiet—"
She handled him well, and without a particle of nervousness, though for a few moments it seemed likely that the buggy would be overturned; the animal backed perilously near the edge of the road. Edward kept near enough to draw Ann from danger if that should happen, and Baird watched for the runaway that was certain to follow if the buggy overturned. They were tense moments—until the train snorted its onward way around the curve and the horse gradually quieted.
"All right, now," Baird said, "but the brute's not safe, Miss Ann—he's particularly stupid."
Ann looked at Edward, her eyes blazing. "He needed the whip! I'd have given it to him—hard—but I was afraid I'd frighten you." Baird thought she looked rather like Garvin with that flame in her eyes; both her cool handling of the horse and her lift into excitement surprised him; it altered his opinion of Ann Penniman somewhat.
Edward was a little gray about the lips. "Ann, promise me you will never drive that horse again."
"I'm not afraid of him!"
"Promise me," Edward repeated.
Ann drew a long breath, then smiled. "Yes, I promise. I promised before."
Edward gave her a long look, and her eyes dropped under it. He looked then at Baird, who had been silently observant. "Perhaps you'll watch over this reckless young person until Mr. Penniman comes," he said more lightly. "Having scolded, I'll depart.... Good-by, Ann." But there was nothing chiding in the parting look he gave her, Baird noticed.
There was good reason for his somewhat hasty departure, for the man who had just separated from the group on the station platform was Coats Penniman. When he started toward them, Edward had ridden on. As he approached, Coats eyed Baird quite as gravely and observantly as Edward had done. He had a stern face, heavy black brows that lowered easily over blue-gray eyes.