CHAPTER XV
Hope's anxiety to reach the ranch could not have been great, for she walked slowly along the dark, gray stretch of road, vaguely dreaming the while, and offering excuses to herself for not having accepted Livingston's invitation. She managed to find several reasons. First, it would have been too crowded; second, Sydney had brought the horse, and was probably waiting to see her; third, she had no particular desire to go, because he had so obviously wanted her to do so. Finally, after weighing all her excuses, she was obliged to admit that the only thing that really troubled her was Livingston's evident unconcern at her refusal to accompany them.
She had reached a point in her life where self-analysis was fast becoming an interesting study. At present it struck her as being amusing.
The clatter of hoofs and a wild whoop brought her out of her absorbing study, as down the nearest side-hill the twins raced pell-mell, the pinto pony leading the stylish Dude by half a length. They drew up suddenly in the road beside her.
"Now you can see fer yourself that that Dude cayuse of Dave's ain't in it with my pinto!" exclaimed the soft-voiced twin.
"What'er you givin' us!" shouted Dave. "Just hear him brag about that spotted cayuse of his'n! 'Twasn't no even race at all. He had 'bout a mile the start!"
"Oh, come off your perch!" retorted the other sweetly.
"Where are you boys going?" asked Hope.
"Nowheres. We seen you from the top of the divide, an' I thought I'd just show you what was in Pinto. He's all right—you bet! Ain't you, old man?" said the boy, pulling his pony's mane affectionately.