"Us boys," added Barbee, "always hung out at the Ace of Diamonds, bein'
Packard's men. After now, when I go on a rampage, I'm goin' to make
frien's across the street. Friends sometimes comes in handy in Red
Creek," he added smilingly.
The road, as one comes into Red Creek from the east, divides at the
first bridge, one fork becoming the northern half of the intersected
street, the other the southern half. Steve Packard, filling his eyes
with the two rows of similar shacks, hesitated briefly.
Until now he had always gone to the Packard side; when a boy he had
regarded the rival section with high contempt, looking upon it as
inferior, sneering at it as a thoroughbred might lift lip at an
unworthy mongrel. The prejudice was old and deep-rooted; he felt a
subtle sense of shame as though the eyes of the world were upon him,
watching to see him turn toward the "low-down skunks an' varmints"
which his grandfather had named these denizens of the defamed section.
The hesitation was brief; he reined his horse impatiently to the left,
riding straight toward the flaunting sign upon the lofty false front of
the Old Trusty saloon. But short as was his indecision it had not
ended before he had glimpsed at the far end of the street the
incongruous lines of an automobile--red racing type.
"Boyd-Merril. Twin Eight," thought Packard. "So we'll meet on the
same side after all, Miss Terry Pert!"
There were seeds of content in the thought.
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