"I guess you're right," he nodded. "They just had to live in the
country."

There was no brake on the light carriage, and Billy became
absorbed in managing his team down the steep, winding road. Saxon
leaned back, eyes closed, with a feeling of ineffable rest. Time
and again he shot glances at her closed eyes.

"What's the matter?" he asked finally, in mild alarm. "You ain't
sick?"

"It's so beautiful I'm afraid to look," she answered. "It's so
brave it hurts."

"BRAVE?--now that's funnny."

"Isn't it? But it just makes me feel that way. It's brave. Now
the houses and streets and things in the city aren't brave. But
this is. I don't know why. It just is."

"By golly, I think you're right," he exclaimed. "It strikes me
that way, now you speak of it. They ain't no games or tricks
here, no cheatin' an' no lyin'. Them trees just stand up natural
an' strong an' clean like young boys their first time in the ring
before they've learned its rottenness an' how to double-cross an'
lay down to the bettin' odds an' the fightfans. Yep; it is brave.
Say, Saxon, you see things, don't you?" His pause was almost
wistful, and he looked at her and studied her with a caressing
softness that ran through her in resurgent thrills. "D'ye know,
I'd just like you to see me fight some time--a real fight, with