Both of them had heard the story of the night,
and each of them had tucked away in her corsage a scribbled note
she wanted to get back to her room and read again. That the
pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the inside were
aware that the "King," masquerading under the name of Jack
Holloway, was the active power behind the sheriff stimulating the
chase.
It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called
away to take his turn, that the outlaw chief sauntered along the
aisle of the grand stand to the box in which was seated the
mistress of the Lazy D.
"Beautiful mo'ning, isn't it? Delightfully crisp and clear," he
said by way of introduction, stopping at her box.
She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine
courage rose to meet it. There was a daring light in her eye, a
buoyant challenge in her voice as she answered:
"It is a splendid morning. I'm not surprised you are enjoying
it."
"Did I say I was enjoying it?" He laughed as he lifted the bar,
came into her box and took a seat.
"Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in
mourning for a deceased friend."
His dark eyes flashed. "I'll not mourn for him long.
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