“Maybe he’s good-looking,” she observed. “And then, we ought to help him find his cattle.”
Merriam rode on and she followed. The rider was now out of sight under the bluff, but they could hear his horse’s hoofs on the low sandy shore. Merriam knew the locality perfectly. There was no way of getting up the bluff at this point, he was sure; but he did not care to meet Captain Pollock, and he walked his horse smartly along the road.
“You might let me see him,” said Zelda, riding at his side. “I’d like to know a man who could ride like that.”
“Humph! I could do it myself.”
“I shan’t dare you; I really think you might try it,—such is the vanity of age.”
At the side of the road nearest the river was a thin low growth of bushes. Suddenly there was a crash in the scanty hedge just ahead of the two riders and a clatter of broken clods that rolled down with a lively thump.
Merriam drew up with an exclamation as Captain Pollock drove his horse over the edge of the bluff into the road directly in their path. The animal’s flanks still dripped and it was blowing hard from the climb.
“Pardon me!” said Captain Pollock, smiling. He backed his panting horse to the edge of the road and lifted his hat. His riding boots were wet from their contact with water, but he was calm and unruffled.
“Good afternoon,” Merriam replied curtly.
“I hope I didn’t startle you, Mr. Merriam. I didn’t know that there was any one up here. I was trying to find a new road home.”