"It came off just as Lucy told you," declared Slone. "I saw every move."
"Wal, thet's neither here nor there. What you're up ag'in is this. Bostil is sore since you called him. But he holds himself in because he hasn't given up hope of gittin' Wildfire. An', Slone, you're sure wise, ain't you, thet if Bostil doesn't buy him you can't stay on here?"
"I'm wise. But I won't sell Wildfire," replied Slone, doggedly.
"Wal, I'd never wasted my breath tellin' you all this if I hadn't figgered about Lucy. You've got her to think of."
Slone turned on Holley passionately. "You keep hintin' there's a hope for me, when I know there's none!"
"You're only a boy," replied Holley. "Son, where there's life there's hope. I ain't a-goin' to tell you agin thet I know Lucy Bostil."
Slone could not stand nor walk nor keep still. He was shaking from head to foot.
"Wildfire's not mine to sell. He's Lucy's!" confessed Slone.
"The devil you say!" ejaculated Holley, and he nearly dropped his pipe.
"I gave Wildfire to her. She accepted him. It was DONE. Then—then I lost my head an' made her mad.... An'—she said she'd ride him in the race, but wouldn't keep him. But he IS hers."