ostil, breathing deep. "But it'll be hard
to see him, rememberin' how he's robbed me, an' what he's threatened.
An' I ain't lettin' him come to bribe a few weeks' decency from him.
I'm doin' it for only one reason.... Because I know how he loves the
King--how he wants to see the King run away from the field thet day!
Thet's why!"

There was a moment of silence, during which all turned to Creech. He
was a stalwart man, no longer young, with a lined face, deep-set,
troubled eyes, and white, thin beard.

"Bostil, if Cordts loves the King thet well, he's in fer heartbreak,"
said Creech, with a ring in his voice.

Down crashed Bostil's heavy boots and fire flamed in his gaze. The
other men laughed, and Brackton interposed:

"Hold on, you boy riders!" he yelled. "We ain't a-goin' to have any
arguments like thet.... Now, Bostil, it's settled, then? You'll let
Cordts come?"

"Glad to have him," replied Bostil.

"Good. An' now mebbe we'd better get down to the bizness of this here
meetin'."

They seated themselves around the table, upon which Bostil laid an old
and much-soiled ledger and a stub of a lead-pencil.

"First well set the time," he said, with animation, "an' then pitch
into details.... What's the date?"

No one answered, and presently they all looked blankly from one to the
other.

"It's April, ain't it?" queried Holley.

That assurance was as close as they could get to the time of year.

"Lucy!" called Bostil, in a loud voice.

She came running in, anxious, almost alarmed.

"Goodness! you made us jump! What on earth is the matter?"

"Lucy, we want to know the date," replied Bostil.

"Date! Did you have to scare Auntie and me out of our wits just for
that?"

"Who scared you? This is important, Lucy. What's the date?"

"It's a week to-day since last Tuesday," answered Lucy, sweetly.

"Huh! Then it's Tuesday again," said Bostil, laboriously writing it
down. "Now, what's the date?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember? I never knew."

"Dad! ... Last Tuesday was my birthday--the day you DID NOT give me a
horse!"

"Aw, so it was," rejoined Bostil, confused at her reproach. "An' thet
date was--let's see--April sixth.... Then this is April thirteenth.
Much obliged, Lucy. Run back to your aunt now. This hoss talk won't
interest you."

Lucy tossed her head. "I'll bet I'll have to straighten out the whole
thing." Then with a laugh she disappeared.

"Three days beginnin--say June first. June first