A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill | Page 5

Noah grinned ambiguously. "You and
I couldn't teach him anything about horses."
"Can he shoot?"
"Can't hit a barn door."
The Colonel heaved a deep sigh, drained the last drops from his
tumbler, then leaned forward, confidentially:
"Noah Wicker, do you like that young chap?"
"Like him?" Noah looked up in surprise. "Why, everybody likes Don
Morley."
"I don't," said the Colonel fiercely. "Here he comes now. I wish you'd
look at that!"
A headlong young man in model riding costume, astride a bob-tailed
sorrel, rashly took a fence where gate there was none, and came
cantering across the Colonel's favorite stretch of blue grass.
"Awfully sorry to have cut across, Colonel!" he called out in tones that
spoke little contrition. "Slipped my trolley as usual and got lost in the
bullrushes. Hope I haven't kept Miss Lady waiting?"
The Colonel rose and extended a hand of welcome. A true Kentuckian

may commit murder and still be a gentleman, but to fail in hospitality is
to forfeit even his own self-respect.
"My daughter, Mr. Morley, will be out presently," he announced with
great formality.
"And how are you, Mike?" went on young Morley, stooping to pat the
dog; "didn't mean to cut you, old fellow, 'pon my word I didn't."
The dog, a shaggy beast, with small, plaintive eyes looking out from a
fringe of wiry hair, expressed his appreciation of this attention with all
the emotion a stump of tail would permit.
"It's a bully day!" continued the visitor with enthusiasm, wiping his
wrists and forehead, and tossing his hair back. "If I weren't going to
town to-night I'd ask you to take me fishing, Colonel. Hello! What kind
of a reel is that?"
Now the article which had attracted attention happened to be an
invention of the Colonel's, something he had been working on for a
long time, so he could not resist explaining its unique qualities.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" said Morley, turning it over and over admiringly.
"If that isn't the cleverest thing I ever saw. This little screw regulates
the slack, doesn't it? Does your legal mind get on to that, Wick?"
"It was a great job to get that to fit," said the Colonel, nattered in spite
of himself. "Took me the best part of a week to puzzle out that one
point."
"A week!" exclaimed Morley. "It would have taken me months! Oh!
here she is!" and from the very ardent look that leapt into his face, and
the alacrity with which he sprang up, it might have been doubted
whether his mind had been wholly upon the matter under discussion.
Miss Lady greeted him with almost boyish frankness, but there was an
unmistakable flush under the smooth tan of her cheek that did not
escape the vigilant eye of the Colonel.

"Here you are, Dad! here you are, Noah!" she said, tossing a small
package to each; "sandwiches and hard boiled eggs for two."
"Put the salt in for the eggs?" asked the Colonel, having had experience
with her lunches.
"I believe I did. Open yours and see, Noah. Say, Daddy darling!" she
swooped down upon him from the rear, slipping an arm about his neck
as he knelt on the porch to collect his hooks and lines, "you are going to
let me ride Prince, just this once, aren't you?"
[Illustration: The Colonel leaned back upon his knees and glared at
Morley.]
The Colonel gasped, partly from strangulation, and partly from
amazement.
"Prince!" he cried. "Well, I reckon not! That colt's hardly broken to the
saddle. He threw Jimpson last week."
"Well, I'm not Jimpson. Please, Daddy, just this once."
"If that's the little beast Wick was telling me about," said Morley, "we
are certainly not going to trust you on him."
The Colonel leaned back upon his knees where he knelt on the porch,
and glared at Morley.
"Who do you mean by we?"
"The conservative party of which I, for once, am a member. From all I
can hear of that colt, no girl could handle him."
"You are absolutely mistaken, sir! I taught my daughter to straddle a
horse before I taught her to walk. Handle him? Of course she can
handle him! Jimpson!" he roared in conclusion, "put the side-saddle on
Prince!"

CHAPTER II
The Cane Run Road lay straight ahead, now white under the full light
of the sun, now dappled with tiny dancing shadows from the interlaced
twigs overhead, new clothed in their garb of green. White and purple
violets peeped from the fence corners, and overhead the birds made
busy in the branches.
Two young people, flushed and smiling, drew rein and looked at each
other. In the eyes of each was a challenge.
"I'll race you to the mill!" cried Miss Lady, tugging at her bridle.