shore surprised they'd come and try to
find any. Looks bad to me, Belle. Looks to me like somebody is shore
tryin' to start somethin'. There's plenty in the Black Rim would like
to see Tom railroaded to the pen--plenty. Looks to me like they're
aimin' to pin something on him. No, sir, I don't like it. Uh course,"
he went on, letting himself loose-jointedly to the ground, "they
couldn't get nothing on Tom--not unless they framed something. But I
wouldn't put it a-past 'em to do it. No, ma'am, I wouldn't."

"Your bread's burning, Riley. I can smell it. Don't you never think
they'll frame on Tom. They may try it--but that's as far as they'll
get. They don't want to start anything with the Lorrigans!"

"Well, I left the oven door open. She ain't burning to hurt. Yuh see,
Scotty Douglas, he's religious and he don't never pack a gun. Them
kind's bad to tangle up with; awful bad. There ain't nothing much a
man can do with them religious birds. Them not being armed, you can't
shoot--it's murder. And that kinda ties a man's hands, as yuh might
say. They always take advantage of it, invariable. No, ma'am, it looks
bad."

"It'll look worse--for them that tries any funny business with this
outfit," Belle assured him. "Go along and 'tend to your baking. You
know I hate burnt bread. I'm going to drive over and see what they're
up to."

She untied Rosa and Subrosa, and because she was in a hurry she
permitted Riley to hold them by the bits while she climbed in, got the
lines firmly in one hand and her blacksnake in the other. Not often
did she deign to accept assistance, and Riley was all aquiver with
gratified vanity at this mark of her favor.

"Turn 'em loose--and get to that bread!" she cried, and circled the
pintos into the road. "You, Sub! Cut that out, now--settle down! Rosa!
Stead-dy, I ain't any Ben Hur pulling off a chariot race, remember!"

At a gallop they took the first sandy slope of the climb, and Belle
let them go. They were tough--many's the time they had hit the level
on top of the ridge without slowing to a walk on the way up. They had
no great load to pull, and if it pleased them to lope instead of trot,
Belle would never object.

As she sat jouncing on the seat of a buckboard with rattly spokes in
all of the four wheels and a splintered dashboard where Subrosa landed
his heels one day when he had backed before he kicked, one felt that
she would have made a magnificent charioteer. Before she had gone half