"Lumber?" she repeated innocently.
"Yep. Goin' to build."
As his gaze sank deeply into Nettie's, her heart rose up and stood still in her breast.
"Wh-what are you building?" she asked in a breathless whisper, so that he had to bend down from his horse to catch the question, and the answer came with a boy's rich laugh:
"A home, girl!"
After that ecstatic sentence, and as if to relieve some of his pent-up joy, Cyril rode forward at a quick canter, raced on ahead and back again, bringing up beside the slow-traveling democrat.
The click of the doctor's whip, swinging above the horses' heads, became the only sound in the vast silence of the prairie. Dr. McDermott was considering the advisability of replacing his veterans which had given him such long and valiant service over many years; their feeble gait, though greatly to the taste of the engrossed young people, aroused the indignation and wrath of the harassed doctor. Just then a Ford, racing along the road at breakneck speed, jumped airily over a hole and splashed a stream of thick, black slimy mud over the slowly moving democrat and its occupants; it was the last straw in the cup of Dr. McDermott's fury. There and then he vowed to pension the ancient geldings, and get himself one of those infernal machines that had of late been at once his torment and his temptation.
Ever and anon, Cyril would ride a bit ahead, and as if to perform for the girl's especial benefit, Bat, his mount, would rear up on his front or hind feet, plunge and buck recklessly, and perform other thrilling gyrations to the delight of his admiring audience of one. His wild tricks, however, could not feaze the rider, who sat firm and graceful, holding the peppery young broncho under complete and careless control. The horse, a youngster of five, grown impatient at their lagging pace along the trail, pulled and snorted in his efforts to race ahead of the slow, plugging veterans.
"Oh, my," said Nettie—he was riding close again—"he's an awful spirited animal, isn't he? Aren't you the least bit afraid?" And then as he smiled at the idea, she added with the most simple and unfeigned admiration: "You ride just as if nothing—no kind of horse—could ever unseat you."
His chest swelled with pride, and he beamed down upon her.