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

"The Forfeit"

Even Bud, whose habit was sunrise, had not
yet wakened from his heavy slumbers. But Nan was stirring. She heard
Jeff moving, and she saw him beyond her window. She saw him bring his
horse from the barn, saddled and bridled. In a moment he had mounted and
ridden away. Then she dressed, and, for the rest, wondered at the
possible outcome of it all. Half an hour later the sun rose and the
day's work began.
When Jeff reached his home it was still wrapped in the habit of night.
There was no one and nothing stirring, for, as yet, only the golden glow
of the eastern sky promised the coming of day.
His mood was bitter. But his purpose was calculated and deliberate. He
had given his promise in answer to Nan's irresistible pleading. But
otherwise the man was completely unchanged. He moved away down to the
corrals, and leaned against the great lateral rails which closed the
entrance. The beasts within were chewing the cud, and still picking at
the remains of their overnight feed.
They were a goodly sight to eyes that understood the meaning of such
things.


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