Dave an' Lew, let 'em look after their own belongin's."
"They'll have to, far as I'm concerned," said Bud. "What would I
want of a horse I can beat any time I want to run mine? Dave must
think I'm scared to ride fast, since Sunday! And Pop, I've got
troubles enough without having a woman on my hands. Are you sure
Marian's gone?"
"SURE?" Pop snorted. "Honey, she's had to do the cookin' for
me an' Jerry--and if I ain't sure--"
Bud did not wait to hear him out. There was Honey, whom he
would very much like to avoid meeting; so the sooner he made
certain of Marian's deliberate flight the better, since Honey
was not an early riser. He went to the house and entered by
way of the kitchen, feeling perfectly sure all the while that
Pop was watching him. The disorder there was sufficiently
convincing that Marian was gone, so he tip-toed across the
room to a door through which he had never seen any one pass
save Lew and Marian.
It was her bedroom, meagrely furnished, but in perfect order.
On the goods-box dresser with a wavy-glassed mirror above it,
her hair brush, comb and a few cheap toilet necessities lay,
with the comb across a nail file as if she had put it down
hurriedly before going out to serve supper to the men.
Marian, then, had not stolen home to pack things for the
journey, as Jerry had declared a woman would do.
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