The little bitter smile upon his lips was also not
quite in keeping with the restlessness of his fingers upon the bridle.
"Is that bridge fit for crossing, farmer?" he asked.
"Yes," said Winston quietly. "You must lead your horse."
Maud Barrington had in the meanwhile stood very still, and now moved as
by an effort. "It is time I rode on, and you can show the stranger
across," she said. "I have kept you at least five minutes longer than
was necessary."
Courthorne, Winston fancied, shifted one foot from the stirrup, but
then sat still as the farmer held his hand for the girl to mount by,
while when she rode away he looked at his companion with a trace of
anger as well as irony in his eyes.
"Yes," said Winston. "What you heard was correct. Miss Barrington's
horse fell lame coming from one of the farms, which accounts for her
passing here so late. I had just led the beast across the incompleted
bridge. Still, it is not on my account I tell you this. Where have
you been and why have you broken one of my conditions?"
Courthorne laughed. "It seems to me you are adopting a somewhat
curious tone. I went to my homestead to look for you."
"You have not answered my other question, and in the meanwhile I am
your tenant, and the place is mine."
"We really needn't quibble," said Courthorne. "I came for the very
simple reason that I wanted money."
"You had one thousand dollars," said Winston dryly.
Courthorne made a little gesture of resignation.
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