For some immutable
reason they existed, and perforce must be borne with, and it was his
hope that he would get through life and see as little as possible of
the exasperating sex. Nevertheless, as Bryce surveyed this winsome
miss through the palings, he was sensible of a sneaking desire to
find favour in her eyes--also equally sensible of the fact that the
path to that desirable end lay between himself and Midget. He swelled
with the importance of one who knows he controls a delicate
situation. "Well, I suppose if you want a ride I'll have to give it
to you," he grumbled, "although I'm mighty busy this morning."
"Oh, I think you're so nice," she declared.
A thrill shot through him that was akin to pain; with difficulty did
he restrain an impulse to dash wildly into the stable and saddle
Midget in furious haste. Instead he walked to the barn slowly and
with extreme dignity. When he reappeared, he was leading Midget, a
little silverpoint runt of a Klamath Indian pony, and Moses, a sturdy
pinto cayuse from the cattle ranges over in Trinity County. "I'll
have to ride with you," he announced. "Can't let a tenderfoot like
you go out alone on Midget."
All aflutter with delightful anticipation, the young lady climbed up
on the gate and scrambled into the saddle when Bryce swung the pony
broadside to the gate.
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