“If you dare——!” But her voice trembled.
“Seven!”
“What the deuce are you two up to?” asked Phillip.
“Eight!”
“I—I think I’ll let Mr. North ride Cardinal,” said Margaret unsteadily. “Will you help me off, Phil?”
“Why, John will do it,” replied Phillip wonderingly.
Margaret bit her lips and stared fixedly at Cardinal’s drooping ears.
“Nine!” said John in a polite, conversational tone. His grasp on her hand tightened. She cast a frightened glance at Phillip, who had mounted and was wheeling Winchester toward home. Her eyes filled as she dropped the reins and took her knee from the horn. John held up his hands and she slipped to the ground.
“I hate you!” she sobbed.
“I love you!” he whispered.