y be kings and princesses?

"An' where would ye be a-goin' to, down this part o' the world so late?"
she heard the unctuous voice above her inquire.

Split was silent. That the daughter of a bonanza king should have
fancied for a moment that Indian Jim could be her father!

"An' who's the gyurl with ye--the witch ye call Jack?"

"'T isn't a girl." That virility which Split's wild nature respected and
admired forbade her denying the boy his sex. "It's a boy--Jack--Jack
Cody."

King Sammy laughed. His was rich, strong laughter, and men who heard it
on C Street (they had reached the main thoroughfare now, so fleet were
these kingly horses of Split's father) knew it--and knew, too, what
poor, mean thoughts lay behind it.

"An' this Cody," he said, turning his handsome head to look down at the
boy on his sled behind. "Cody--Cody, now," he continued, with royalty's
marvelous memory, "your father killed in the Ophir--eh? Time of the fire
on the 1800--yes--yes! An' I was goin' to give him a point that very
day. Well--well!"

"Ye did!" The boy looked up resentful, and met those smiling, crafty
eyes.

"No! An' he sold short? Too bad! Too bad! I thought sure that stock was
goin' down. My, the bad man that told me it was! I hope he didn't lose?"
he chuckled.

"All we had," said the boy.

"Tut--tut--tut! What a pity! Haven't I always said it's wicked to deal
in stocks!" The king shook his sorrowful old head, then turned to the
princess beside him. "An' it's out for a ride ye'd be, sweetheartin' on
the sly, eh?"

"He's not! I was not!" Split's cheeks grew hotter. He was her father,
this splendid, handsome king, yet never had she felt for poor Francis
Madigan what she felt now for the man beside her.

"What, then?"

"I was going down for--for a reason," she stammered.

"To be sure! To be sure!" chuckled his old Majesty. "An' ye've told your
father an' mother ye were goin', no doubt."

"No, I--didn't. I--couldn't."

"Coorse not; coorse not, but ye--"

"Let me out!" cried Split.

The sneer in his voice had set her aflame. She rose in the sleigh, cast
off the furs, and, stamping like a fury, tried to seize the reins.

"Ho! Ho!" The old monarch's bowed broad shoulders shook with laughter as
he caught her trembling hands and held them. "What a little spitfire! A
divvle of a temper ye've got, my dear. Cody, now, does he like gyurls
with such a temper?"

"Will you let me out?" Her voice was hoarse with anger.

"C