She did not recognize him at first, and drew back, as the horse, in a swirl of dust and spume flakes, came to a stop beside her. Then she saw who it was and with a low-toned “Jerry!” stood staring at him.
“Yes, it’s I,” he said hurriedly, leaning forward. “Get in and I’ll take you for a spin.”
She drew away, shaking her head. The spirited horse, excited by its run, began to bite at the bit, arch its neck and back prancingly. Jerry had to withdraw his attention from the girl, and, swearing in a soft undertone, bestow it on the animal.
“Come, June,” he said, trying to speak coaxingly, “there’s no harm in driving for half an hour with me. This is a new horse I’m trying for Black Dan and it’s a perfect stunner.”
She murmured a refusal, backing away from the wheels. The horse paused for a moment in its curvetings and Jerry had an opportunity to look at her and say in his most compelling tone:
“I only want you to drive up a mile or two with me. It’s a glorious afternoon, and it’s worth something to ride behind a horse like this. I’m not going to say anything to you you won’t like to hear. You needn’t be afraid. You and I are too old friends not to trust each other.”
She wavered.
“Come, get in,” he said, his voice soft and making an urgent upward movement with his chin, that seemed to draw her into the buggy as his hand might. She put her foot on the step and the next moment was beside him. The horse leaped forward and the road began to flash by like a yellow ribbon.
For some moments they were silent, Jerry with his eyes on the road ahead. They whirled round one of the projecting spurs of the mountain and, seeing the long curve before them clear of vehicles, he turned and looked at her. His eyes as they met hers were hard and angry.
“I’ve been hearing things about you!” he said.