The big fellow stepped up, and linking his arm with the lad’s, drew him off down the street, saying, in a very pleasant and somewhat musical voice:
“Let us get away from this mob, my young friend; I fancy their well-meant intentions are not particularly agreeable to either of us. I can see that you don’t care to be made a hero of, though I never knew one who more deserved the honor.”
He spoke in such a breezy, whole-souled way that Vance was instantly prepossessed in his favor.
Though he showed the flavor of the untrammeled West in every movement, yet there was nothing rough about him.
He was a gentleman from heel to crown.
“I am very glad you were not injured by the runaway, sir,” said Vance sincerely.
“Thanks to your nerve and presence of mind, I was not; but I had a narrow call for my life. I owe my preservation to you, my brave lad, and I wish you to understand that I am deeply grateful to you. You must let me know your name, for I insist that we shall be better acquainted.”
“My name is Vance Thornton.”
“Thank you; and mine is William Bradhurst.”
“I am pleased to know you, Mr. Bradhurst,” said Vance heartily.