"That is all right." Saunders extended his hand, and the other clasped it firmly.
A man with a polished club tied to his wrist was striding toward them. It was the village marshal, Alf Floyd. Drake eyed him helplessly.
"Let me talk to him," Saunders said, under his breath. "You ride on home. Leave him to me. This must not get out."
"What's the trouble here?" the officer asked, arriving just as Drake rode away.
Saunders laughed carelessly as he reached for the bridle of his grazing horse. "It means that I got the best of Tom Drake. He bet me a dollar he could catch that train and get aboard. He would have done it, too, if I hadn't caught him around the waist at the last minute and swung him back. He didn't like it much, but he is all right now."
"Somebody said they heard a pistol-shot," the officer said.
"An accident," Saunders replied. "Drake dropped it--horse jerked it from his hand. I suppose we may have violated an ordinance in racing in town, and if so I'm willing to pay the fine. I'm responsible."
"There is an ordinance," the marshal said, "but I won't make a case out o' this."
"All right, Alf; thanks. How goes it?"
"Oh, so-so. How is it in the city?"
"Hot and dusty." Saunders mounted deliberately. "Good night, Alf; I must get out home and eat something."
A few minutes later as Saunders was slowly riding past Drake's front gate he noticed a figure on the inside of the yard close to the fence. It was Dolly. She opened the gate and came out. He reined in and, hat in hand, sprang to the ground. Her head was covered with a thin white shawl held beneath her chin, and her pale face showed between the folds as pure and patient as a suffering nun's. He saw that she was trying to speak, but was unable to do so.
"What is it, Dolly?" he faltered. "I suppose your father got back?"
"Yes." It was a bare labial whisper. She nodded; she put her cold hand into his great, warm eager one, and he held it as tenderly as if it had been a dying sparrow.
"I am glad I happened to reach him," he said, in an effort to relieve her embarrassment. "We had it nip and tuck," he added, lightly. "My lungs are lined with dust."