STEENIE AND LADY TRIX.
What? What is this?” Judge Courtenay looked incredulously around; and there was Steenie clasping her arms about the neck of a tall stranger who had knelt upon the stable floor, the better to receive her caress, and whose brown, honest face shone with a delight which matched her own. “Bob, is it? Why, sir, I know all about you! And right glad I am to see you.”
“The same, sir. Judge Courtenay, I presume. Just got in from the West. Hunted up the ‘boss’ first, and he shipped me on here. Knew it wouldn’t do to keep my eyes from the sight of this here young lady, not no longer ’n necessary, no.”
“Oh, Bob, why didn’t you send me word so that I could have been ’xpecting you? I’m so glad—glad—glad!”
“Glad I didn’t, hey? But you’ve growed! You’ve growed a power sence I lifted you aboard cars at San’ Felis’ station. How’s ever’thing?”
“Everything? Well. No—I don’t know. Did Sutro Vives get safely back home?”
“Yes; Sutry’s all right,” answered the Kentuckian, quietly, and fixing a significant glance upon Judge Courtenay’s face. “But let me in on this racket. What is it? A horse-race, eh?”
“Yes; and I’m to drive and ride this beauty. I must win, Bob! I must. But now I know I shall—with you on hand to ’courage me. Oh, I’m so glad, so glad!”
“Give me the hull business. What’s about this thousand dollars?”