The preliminaries in the rough riding contest took place that afternoon. Of the four who won the right to compete in the finals, two were Curly Flandrau and Dick Maloney. They went together to the Cullison box to get the applause due them.
Kate Cullison had two guests with her. One was Laura London, the other he had never seen. She was a fair young woman with thick ropes of yellow hair coiled round her head. Deep-breasted and robust-loined, she had the rich coloring of the Scandinavian race and much of the slow grace peculiar to its women.
The hostess pronounced their names. “Miss Anderson, this is Mr. Flandrau. Mr. Flandrau—Miss Anderson.”
Curly glanced quickly at Kate Cullison, who nodded. This then was the sweetheart of poor Mac.
Her eyes filled with tears as she took the young man’s hand. To his surprise Curly found his throat choking up. He could not say a word, but she understood the unspoken sympathy. They sat together in the back of the box.
“I’d like to come and talk to you about—Mac. Can I come this evening, say?”
“Please.”
Kate gave them no more time for dwelling on the past.
“You did ride so splendidly,” she told Curly.
“No better than Dick did,” he protested.