"Well, ma'am, I didn't come very direct. I kind of shifted round. But I can go back straight. And I'd really rather. I think I'd better. It was all foolishness my coming over. I can put you up back of me on my horse, if you don't mind, and we'll get to Rusty before it's lit up. I'd rather. You don't mind riding that way, do you? You see, if I put you up and walked, it'd take lots more time."
"I don't mind," said Sheila, but she said it rather proudly so that
Hilliard smiled.
"Well, ma'am, we can try it, anyway. If you go back to the road, I'll get my horse."
He seemed to have hidden his horse in a density of trees a mile from the road. Sheila waited till she thought she must have dreamed her meeting with him. He came back, looking a trifle sheepish.
"You see," he said, "I didn't come by the road, ma'am."
The horse was a large, bony animal with a mean eye.
"That isn't the pony you rode when you came to Millings," said Sheila.
He bent to examine his saddle-girth. "No, ma'am," he said gently. "I've been riding quite a variety of horse-flesh lately. I'll get on first if you don't mind and give you a hand up. You put your foot on mine. The horse will stand."
Sheila obeyed, pressing her lips tight, for she was afraid. However, his long, supple fingers closed over her wrist like steel and she got quickly and easily to her perch and clung nervously to him.
"That's right. Put your arms round tight. Are you all fixed?"