She
followed Barker as he came from the ring.
"Mr. Barker, please!"
He turned upon her sharply.
"Well, what is it NOW?"
"I want to ask you to let me off again to-night." She spoke in a
short, jerky, desperate way.
"What?" he shrieked. "Not go into the ring, with all them people
inside what's paid their money a-cause they knowed yer?"
"That's it," she cried. "I can't! I can't!"
"YER gettin' too tony!" Barker sneered. "That's the trouble with
you. You ain't been good for nothin' since you was at that
parson's house. Yer didn't stay there, and yer no use here.
First thing yer know yer'll be out all 'round."
"Out?"
"Sure. Yer don't think I'm goin' ter head my bill with a 'dead
one,' do you?"
"I am not a 'dead one,' " she answered, excitedly. "I'm the best
rider you've had since mother died. You've said so yourself."
'That was afore yer got in with them church cranks. You talk
about yer mother! Why, she'd be ashamed ter own yer."
"She wouldn't," cried Polly. Her eyes were flashing, her face
was scarlet. The pride of hundreds of years of ancestry was
quivering with indignation. "I can ride as well as I EVER could,
and I'll do it, too. I'll do it to-morrow."
"To-morrow?" echoed Barker. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I CAN'T go into that ring TO-NIGHT," she declared,
"and I won't.
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