"Tell me, then," he began, quietly, with keen gaze roving under the trees and eyes strained tight, "tell me what's come off." "Don't you know?" she queried, in amaze. "Only that for some reason I'm done in Bostil's Ford. It can't be because I punched Joel Creech. I felt it before I met Bostil at the store. He taunted me. We had bitter words. He told before all of them how the outfit I wore you gave me. An' then I dared him to race the King. My horse an' my life against YOU!" "Yes, I know," she whispered, softly. "It's all over town.... Oh, Lin! it was a grand bet! And Bostil four-flushed, as the riders say. For days a race between Wildfire and the King had been in the air. There'll never be peace in Bostil's Ford again till that race is run." "But, Lucy, could Bostil's wantin' Wildfire an' hatin' me because I won't sell--could that ruin me here at the Ford?" "It could. But, Lin, there's more. Oh, I hate to tell you!" she whispered, passionately. "I thought you'd know.... Joel Creech swore you cut the ropes on the ferry-boat and sent it adrift." "The loon!" ejaculated Slone, and he laughed low in both anger and ridicule. "Lucy, that's only a fool's talk." "He's crazy. Oh, if I ever get him in front of me again when I'm on Sarch--I'll--I'll...." She ended with a little gasp and leaned a moment against Slone. He felt her heart beat--felt the strong clasp of her hands. She was indeed Bostil's flesh and blood, and there was that in her dangerous to arouse. "Lin, the folks here are queer," she resumed, more calmly. "For long years Dad has ruled them. They see with his eyes and talk with his voice. Joel Creech swore you cut those cables. Swore he trailed you. Brackton believed him. Van believed him. They told my father. And he--my dad--God forgive him! he jumped at that. The village as one person now believes you sent the boat adrift so Creech's horses could not cross and you could win the race." "Lucy, if it wasn't so--so funny I'd be mad as--as--" burst out Slone. "It isn't funny. It's terrible.... I know who cut those cables. .. Holley knows.... DAD knows--an', oh, Lin--I--hate--I hate my own father!" "My God!" gasped Slone, as the full signification burst upon him. Then his next thought was for Lucy. "Listen, dear--you mustn't say that," he entreated. "He's your father. He's a good man every way except when he's after horses. Then he's half horse. I understand him. I feel sorry for him.... An' if he's throwed the blame on me, all right. I'll stand it. What do I care? I was queered, anyhow, because I wouldn't part with my horse. It can't matter so much if people think I did that just to help win a race. But if they knew your--your father did it, an' if Creech's horses starve, why it'd be a disgrace for him--an' you." "Lin Slone--you'll accept the blame!" she whispered, with wide, dark eyes on him, hands at his shoulders. "Sure I will," replied Slone. "I can't be any worse off."