The woman nodded, and grinned. Then she shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands wide—disdainfully.
“What would you? I must live. People say Clovita has the gift of prophecy. As to that—”
She was interrupted by the arrival of four men on ponies. They rode swiftly up, looked at the car and its occupants for a moment, then turned to Richmond.
“Good work,” one of them said. “Yuh shore know yore doggies, Jack. We all set?”
“Yep. Hey, Clove, pile out. Here’s where you get yore liver shook up good. Sheldon, slide off that war horse an’ let a lady up. Come on, Cleo, shake yore stumps. When you get up there, hang on. Don’t let ’er throw yuh. Ready? Alley-oop!”
With a groan, the old woman, assisted by Sheldon and Richmond, climbed to the back of the pony Sheldon had just quit. Once in the saddle, she took the reins with a practiced hand and settled her dresses about her with supreme confidence. Evidently she had been a rider in her day, but now she made a strange picture sitting proudly on the horse, her head thrown back, surveying with a scornful eye those on the ground.
Richmond grinned widely.
“Quite a gal,” he said to Sheldon. “Feel O.K., Clove? That bronc’s gentle, an’ you won’t have no trouble with her. If she rears, sock her on the head.”
“Clovita know,” the woman replied with dignity. “But I not hit a horse on the head—never. They die from that. Clovita rode horses before you were born. Wild horses, that ran like fire! No one could ride like Clovita, I—”
“Hang it up,” Richmond said brutally. Then: “Miss Manley, I must ask you to change cars at this station. Sorry, but the road ain’t so good fer autos. The other young gals too. Boys, pile off. We go back in the car. You girls ride with Clove. We’ll see you later, so don’t pine too much when we leave. And now—adios.” He bowed mockingly.