McCloud and Dicksie
When the women tried to discourage McCloud by talking hats he played the wheezy piano, and when Dicksie spoke about going home he declared he would ride home with her. But Dicksie had no mind that he should, and when he asked to know why, without realizing what a flush lingered in his face, she said only, no; if she had reasons she would give none. McCloud persisted, because under the flush about his eyes was the resolve that he would take one long ride that evening, in any event. He had made up his mind for that ride—a longer one than he had ever taken before or expected ever to take again—and would not be balked.
Dicksie, insisting upon going home, went so far as to have her horse brought from the stable. To her surprise, a horse for McCloud came over with it. Quiet to the verge of solemnity, but with McCloud following, Dicksie walked with admirable firmness out of the shop to the curb. McCloud gave her rein to her, and with a smile stood waiting to help her mount.
She was drawing on her second glove. “You are not going with me.”
“You’ll let me ride the same road, won’t you—even if I can’t keep up?”
Dicksie looked at his mount. “It would be difficult to keep up, with that horse.”
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