“There now!” he said soothingly. “It's all right now. I'm so sorry—so very sorry,” and he patted her on the shoulder and laid his hand across her temple and hair, and pressed her head tight to his breast. Almost as suddenly she stopped sobbing and loosening herself turned away from him.
“I'm a fool—that's what I am,” she said hotly.
“No, you aren't! Come on, little girl! We're friends again, aren't we?” June was digging at her eyes with both hands.
“Aren't we?”
“Yes,” she said with an angry little catch of her breath, and she turned submissively to let him lift her to her seat. Then she looked down into his face.
“Jack,” she said, and he started again at the frank address, “I ain't NEVER GOIN' TO DO THAT NO MORE.”
“Yes, you are, little girl,” he said soberly but cheerily. “You're goin' to do it whenever I'm wrong or whenever you think I'm wrong.” She shook her head seriously.
“No, Jack.”
In a few minutes they were at the foot of the mountain and on a level road.
“Hold tight!” Hale shouted, “I'm going to let him out now.” At the touch of his spur, the big black horse sprang into a gallop, faster and faster, until he was pounding the hard road in a swift run like thunder. At the creek Hale pulled in and looked around. June's bonnet was down, her hair was tossed, her eyes were sparkling fearlessly, and her face was flushed with joy.