"Don't you know, young lady, you've
got to be careful sometimes? Now, if you had run over me----"
"Serve you right," sniffed Terry.
"Yes, but think! Running over a man who hasn't had time to take his
spurs off yet, why you stood all kinds of chances getting a puncture!
You don't want to forget things like that."
Terry bit her lip, stepped on the throttle, swung across the street,
made a reckless turn, and brought up in front of the lunch-counter.
"Do you know," remarked Packard lightly, ignoring the fact that she had
answered him with only the contempt of her silence, "you remind me of
my grandfather. Fact! You two have the same little trick of driving.
Wonder what would happen if you and he met on a narrow road?"
"At least," said Terry, eying him belligerently, "he is a man, if he is
a scoundrel. Not just a hobo!"
"Oh, I didn't mean to call you a scoundrel! Nor yet to say that you
struck me as mannish. Of course----"
"Oh, you make me sick!" cried Terry. And she flashed away from him,
going into the lunch-room.
He followed her with speculative eyes. Then he glanced across the
street. Blenham had dismounted in front of the Ace of Diamonds and was
watching. As Packard turned Blenham went into Hodges's saloon.
"Wonder what he'll have to say when Hodges hands him his roll?" mused
Packard.
Well, he had accomplished his purpose.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99