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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"


"Ther'd been no sort o' sense his turning out around sun-up to see us
folks off. It ain't goin' to be weeks before he gets back home."
"No."
Nan's smile remained, and Bud, for all his avoidance of it, was aware
that was so. It was a smile that cut him to the heart, and yet he was
simple man enough to find relief in it.
"There'll be a deal for him to fix before he gets back home," Nan went
on.
She spoke in the earnest fashion of deep consideration. Bud glanced
round at her again, steadying his powerful horse to permit her pony to
push its nose ahead. Her manner had startled him. But he refrained
from the folly of replying. He had that in his mind to impart the
thought of which nearly broke his heart. But it must be told, and by
him. And a passionate desire to lighten the blow made him watch
desperately for the best opportunity.
But he was dealing with a nature stronger, deeper, more honest and
clear-sighted than he knew. He was dealing with a woman who could
sacrifice all to the well-being and happiness of those she loved.


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