"Enough of that, Niles! Was I chosen in the caucus to-day? I want yes or no."
"Yes—and after three-quarters of the voters had been stampeded to fight that fire that was sweeping down on their property! And you—"
Harlan pushed him to one side, leaped upon his horse, and rode away.
The girl jumped her roan to his side.
"It's wicked, Harlan," she gasped, "wicked! I heard him! What are you going to do?"
That was another of her questions that he found it hard to answer. "I'm going to find my grandfather, Clare, and I'm going in a great hurry. Come, I can't talk now, little girl!"
They galloped down the long hill to the bridge, their horses neck and neck.
"The last ride as playmates!" she cried, as they started. Her voice broke, pathetically. He did not reply. He was too furiously angry to trust himself in conversation at that moment, and he rode like a madman, knowing that she could keep pace with him.
They drew rein at the end of the bridge.
"It's only a bit of a run for you now, little girl. I'll keep on home."
She put her hand out to him and held him for a moment.