He had reached the Pine earlier
than they and was coming down to meet them.
"Hello, little girl," called Hale cheerily, "you didn't fail me,
did you?"
June shook her head and smiled. Her face was blue and her little
legs, dangling under the bundle, were shrinking from the cold. Her
bonnet had fallen to the back of her neck, and he saw that her
hair was parted and gathered in a Psyche knot at the back of her
head, giving her a quaint old look when she stood on the ground in
her crimson gown. Hale had not forgotten a pillion and there the
transfer was made. Hale lifted her behind his saddle and handed up
her bundle.
"I'll take good care of her," he said.
"All right," said the old man.
"And I'm coming over soon to fix up that coal matter, and I'll let
you know how she's getting on."
"All right."
"Good-by," said Hale.
"I wish ye well," said the mountaineer. "Be a good girl, Juny, and
do what Mr. Hale thar tells ye."
"All right, pap." And thus they parted. June felt the power of
Hale's big black horse with exultation the moment he started.
"Now we're off," said Hale gayly, and he patted the little hand
that was about his waist.
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