" Realizing a little Hugh's
difficulty in expressing what he must feel, she wanted to help him, but
when she turned and saw how he did not look at her but continually stared
into the darkness, pride kept her silent. "I'll have to wait until he's
ready. Already I've taken things too much into my own hands. I'll put
through this marriage, but when it comes to anything else he'll have to
begin," she told herself, and a lump came into her throat and tears to her
eyes.
CHAPTER XVI
As he stood alone in the barnyard, excited at the thought of the adventure
on which Clara and Hugh had set out, Jim Priest remembered Tom Butterworth.
For more than thirty years Jim had worked for Tom and they had one strong
impulse that bound them together--their common love of fine horses. More
than once the two men had spent an afternoon together in the grand stand at
the fall trotting meeting at Cleveland. In the late morning of such a day
Tom found Jim wandering from stall to stall, looking at the horses being
rubbed down and prepared for the afternoon's races. In a generous mood he
bought his employee's lunch and took him to a seat in the grand stand.
All afternoon the two men watched the races, smoked and quarreled. Tom
contended that Bud Doble, the debonair, the dramatic, the handsome,
was the greatest of all race horse drivers, and Jim Priest held Bud
Doble in contempt.
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