"I told Aunt Phoebe I'd be back
to lunch--dinner, I mean--and she's so upset over those horrible
men planted in the orchard--did Grant tell you about it?--that I
feel I ought to be with her. And Marie has the toothache again.
So I really must go. Good-by--come down whenever you can, won't
you?" She smiled, and she waved a hand, and she held up her
riding-skirt daintily as she turned away. "You didn't say goodby
to Georgie," she reminded Grant, still making use of the chirpy
tone. "I hope I am not in any way responsible."
"I don't see how you could be," said Good Indian calmly; and
that, for some reason, seemed to intensify the atmosphere with
which Evadna chose to surround herself.
She led Huckleberry up beside the store platform without giving
Grant a chance to help, mounted, and started on while he was in
after the package--a roll not more than eight inches long, and
weighing at least four ounces, which brought an ironical smile to
his lips. But she could not hope to outrun him on Huckleberry,
even when Huckleberry's nose was turned toward home, and he
therefore came clattering up before she had passed the straggling
outpost of rusty tin cans which marked, by implication, the
boundary line between Hartley and the sagebrush waste surrounding
it.
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