saddle so that it rattled the stirrups like castanets as he galloped. "I
don't care," she told herself again very emphatically, because she was
quite sure that she did care--or that she would care if only she permitted
herself to be so foolish. Manley overtook her then, and drew her hand under
his arm to lead her. But he seemed quite sullen, and would not say a word
all the way back.




CHAPTER IV


THE "SHIVAREE"

Kent jerked open the stable door, led in his horses, turned them into their
stalls, and removed the saddles with quick, nervous movements which told
plainly how angry he was.

"I'll get myself all excited trying to do her a favor again--I don't
think!" he growled in the ear of Michael, his gray gelding. "Think of me
getting let down on my face like that! By a woman!"

He felt along the wall in the intense darkness until his fingers touched
a lantern, took it down from the nail where it hung, and lighted it. He
carried it farther down the rude passage between the stalls, hung it high
upon another nail, and turned to the great oats box, from within which came
a vigorous thumping and the sound of muttered cursing.

Kent was not in the mood to see the humor of anything in particular. Had he