"We'll buy you an outfit."
"Horseback?"
Sandy looked at her with puckered eyes.
"Can't tell you what I ain't sure of myse'f," he drawled. "One thing is sure, you got to tuhn in an' git a good rest. Ef we slide out it won't be all a pleasure trip. I reckon Plimsoll means business. An' he's sure got the county machinery behind him right now."
"I can take Grit?"
"W'udn't want to leave us somethin' to remember you by?" asked Sandy. "Somethin' to help make sure you'll come back?"
"I'd allus come back, to visit Dad," she said. "But Grit...? I don't want to leave Grit."
"It 'ud be a hard trip fo' him this way, Molly. I ain't sure about the regulations at them schools. I reckon the best way w'ud be fo' you to make arrangements fo' him to come on afteh you git there."
Molly regarded Sandy soberly, her fingers twining through the dog's mane.
"You'd be good to him—same as you air to me? Oh, I'm jest plumb mean to ask you that. I know you w'ud. He's goin' to be jest as lonesome as me for a bit, ain't you, Grit? He allus slep' with me, cuddlin' up, an'——" She gulped, straightened.