“Thank you. I’ve promised him to a lady,” said Steve.
Next day Steve rode his new horse to Birdwood and, with a twinkle in his eyes, offered him to Blair.
“How did you get him?” asked the girl.
“Captured him,” laughed Steve. “Tell your friend not to play poker with me—or McRaffle,” he added.
Blair’s eyes flashed and she attacked Steve vigorously. She would not have him offering to present her a part of his gaming-winnings. He was becoming a scandal to the neighborhood; leading the young men off.
“Young Larry, for instance?” smiled Steve. “Or Captain McRaffle?”
“No. You know very well whom I mean,” declared Blair. “Rupert thinks it fine to imitate you.” The smile was still on Steve’s face, and Blair paused to take breath; then half closing her eyes as if she were sighting carefully—“And couples your name with Captain McRaffle’s,” she added.
A light of satisfaction came into her eyes as she saw the shaft go home. A deeper hue reddened Steve’s sunbrowned face.
“Who was the young lady who bet me not long ago, against that very horse, that she would not dance with a certain Yankee Captain? Where’s her pious example?”