led a little.

There was a sternness about Slone, a dignity that seemed new. "I'll ask
him to--to let you marry me."

Lucy stared aghast. Slone appeared in dead earnest.

"Nonsense!" she exclaimed, shortly.

"I reckon the possibility is--that," replied Slone, bitterly, "but my
motive isn't."

"It is. Why, you've known me only a few days.... Dad would be mad. Like
as not he'd knock you down.... I tell you, Lin, my dad is--is pretty
rough. And just at this time of the races.... And if Wildfire beats the
King! ... Whew!"

"WHEN Wildfire beats the King, not IF," corrected Slone.

"Dad will be dangerous," warned Lucy. "Please don't---don't ask him
that. Then everybody would know I--I--you---you--"

"That's it. I want everybody at your home to know."

"But it's a little place," flashed Lucy. "Every one knows me. I'm the
only girl. There have been--other fellows who.... And oh! I don't want
you made fun of!"

"Why?" he asked.

Lucy turned away her head without answering. Something deep within her
was softening her anger. She must fight to keep angry; and that was
easy enough, she thought, if she could only keep in mind Slone's
opposition to her. Strangely, she discovered that it had been sweet to
find him always governed by her desire or will.

"Maybe you misunderstand," he began, presently. And his voice was not
steady. "I don't forget I'm only--a beggarly rider. I couldn't have
gone into the Ford at all--I was such a ragamuffin--"

"Don't talk like that!" interrupted Lucy, impatiently.

"Listen," he replied. "My askin' Bostil for you doesn't mean I've any
hope. ... It's just I want him an' everybody to know that I asked."

"But Dad--everybody will think that YOU think there's
reason--why--I--why, you OUGHT to ask," burst out Lucy, with scarlet
face.

"Sure, that's it," he replied.

"But there's no reason. None! Not a reason under the sun," retorted
Lucy, hotly. "I found you out here. I did you a--a little service. We
planned to race Wildfire. And I came out to ride him.... That's all."

Slone's dark, steady gaze disconcerted Lucy. "But, no one knows me, and
we've been alone in secret."

"It's not altogether--that. I--I told Auntie," faltered Lucy.

"Yes, just lately."

"Lin Slone, I'll never forgive you if you ask Dad that," declared Lucy,
with startling force.

"I reckon that's not so important."

"Oh!--so you don't care." Lucy felt herself indeed in a mood not
comprehensible to her. Her blood