“They’ll catch him if Brek Steptoe has any influence,” put in Nancy. “Barney told me his cousin was never going to put up with Hawkeseye again. He had stood all he intended. Rosina was now to choose between them.”
“What is that you’re looking at, Nancy?” demanded Elinor, changing the subject.
Nancy blushed and laughed.
“A parting gift from Jim,” she replied.
Poor Jim had ridden for some miles beside the Comet and they had gone slowly in order to enjoy his company. Then, with a last hand-shake all around and a heart-breaking sigh, he stopped in the middle of the road, his sombrero in one hand and his horse’s reins in the other. And there he stood as still as a statue until the motor car was reduced to a small scarlet dot on the horizon. When he had shaken hands with Nancy, he thrust a small package into her lap. There were tears in Nancy’s eyes when she looked at the contents of the package, although her laugh rang out as merrily as her friends’ as she drew forth the hind foot of a jack rabbit mounted on a plaited loop of horsehair.
“Does he expect me to wear this thing around my neck,” she cried dangling the clumsy paw between her small thumb and forefinger.
“There’s a note,” said Mary, leaning over Nancy’s shoulder.
Nancy smiled again as she read the note, first to herself and then out loud:
“Dear Miss Nancy:
“I killed the rabbit in an Indian burying ground in the dark of the moon. The hair came from my horse’s tail. He’s a fine little animal, my horse. I love him best in the world next to—something else I like better. I wish it were a gold rabbit’s foot set in diamonds, but it’s a long ways here from a jewelry store, and this is the best I can do. I’ve had it a long time, and it’s brought me good luck at last, because I’ve met you. I hope it will bring you luck. Good-by. It’s the hardest good-by I ever had to say. If I ever strike a gold mine I’m coming East. Good-by again.