"
The girl nodded brightly, smiling as she noticed the little scar on his
chin--a wound that she had made him blush for when she had admonished
him for fighting with Dick Tenlow.
She watched the rise and fall of the muscles of his arm, beneath his
flannel shirt, as he lighted his cigarette. How broad-chested and strong
and wholesome he seemed in the morning sunlight! There was an untamed
grace about his movements, his gestures, which, together with his
absolute unconsciousness of self, pleased and attracted her.
"Yuma is a little wild, but she is a fine saddle-pony. I'm really
jealous for Boyar's prestige."
"I was afraid for you to ride her," said Collie.
"She behaves beautifully."
"Would you take her as a kind of present from me?" he asked.
"Give Yuma to me? I thought you loved her?"
"I do. That's why I want you to have her."
"He would give you away," said Louise, stroking Yuma's neck. "Give you
away just as you're learning to trust him and perhaps even like him a
little--and he says he loves you! Let's run away from him, Hummingbird!"
"I think I could stand it if you would just be mean once," said Collie.
"Stand what, Collie?"
He had been watching her shapely hand and supple, rounded wrist as she
stroked the pony's neck.
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