"I'll have the horses saddled right away," said Dick, and left them.
"Where you going, Be'trice? You going to ride a horse? I want to,
awf'lly."
"I'm afraid you can't, honey; it's too far." Beatrice pushed a yellow
curl away from his eyes with tender, womanly solicitude.
"Auntie won't care, 'cause I'm a bother. Auntie says she's goin' to send
for Parks. I don't want Parks; 'sides, Parks is sick. I want a pony, and
some ledder towsers wis fringes down 'em, and I want some little wheels
on my feet. Mr. Cam'ron says I do need some little wheels, Be'trice."
"Did he, honey?"
"Yes, he did. I like Mr. Cam'ron, Be'trice; he let me ride his big, high
pony. He's a berry good pony. He shaked hands wis me, Be'trice--he truly
did."
"Did he, hon?" Beatrice, I am sorry to say, was not listening. She was
wondering if Sir Redmond was really angry with her--too angry, for
instance, to go over where the cattle were. He really ought to go, for
he had come West in the interest of the Eastern stockholders in the
Northern Pool, to investigate the actual details of the work. He surely
would not miss this opportunity, Beatrice thought. And she hoped he was
not angry.
"Yes, he truly did. Mr. Cam'ron interduced us, Be'trice. He said,
'Redcloud, dis is Master Dorman Hayes. Shake hands wis my frien'
Dorman.' And he put up his front hand, Be'trice, and nod his head, and I
shaked his hand.
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