the Drift Fence (1992) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Zane Grey
nagged me to death. I don't know them all, though. Just keep it up."
"I--I don't do anythin' but wait on them," gasped Molly.
"That's it. Guess they think you're cold when you're only shy," went on Miss Price. "But you can have a heap of fun. Keep on freezing them.
Tomorrow night you'll have the time of your life."
"Tomorrow night?" faltered Molly.
"Sure. Big dance after the rodeo. Didn't my mother tell you? Anyway, you're going with us."
"I--I hadn't heard. It's terrible kind of you. But I really couldn't go.
I'm such a stranger. An' if they--they think--"
"You dear kid! You are going. Mrs. See promised mother."
Molly thrillingly resigned herself to the unknown. The afternoon ended all too soon, and she rode back to town, babbling to the pleased Mrs. See about the adventure she was having. That night they were out to dine with relatives of Mrs. See. No other young person was present and Molly had the relief of being comparatively unnoticed. These serious older people talked about the affairs of the town and the range, all of which found lodgment in Molly's mind.
Chapter THREE
It was Saturday afternoon and the rodeo had just begun, which accounted for the deserted appearance of the grounds adjacent. Molly had remained longer than was really necessary. Mrs. See would be waiting for her at the stand. She was about to leave when she saw that she was to have a last customer.
A young man, in overalls and heavy boots, got off a dusty horse and approached the booth. He asked for something to eat and drink. Apparently he took no notice of Molly. His face wore a troubled look.
Of all the young men Molly had waited upon in two days, this was the first one who had not looked at her twice, and the only one who had not appeared gay or bold or pleasant. Molly felt a little pique and secondly more than a little curiosity.
He might have been twenty-two or -three years old and evidently was not a cowboy. Molly judged that he would have been fair-skinned if he had not been so sunburnt. His nose had begun to peel, but these demerits did not exactly keep him from being handsome. Presently he laid his sombrero on the counter, which act disclosed light wavy hair, and a broad brow marred by deep furrows.
He struck Molly just about right, and considering her vast experience during these two days, she imagined she was a connoisseur in young men.
He slowly drank the last of his coffee, and looking up, met Molly's glance. Then she knew he had not seen her before. He had gray eyes full of shadows.
"What'd you do if you were just about licked?" he queried suddenly.
"Sir?" exclaimed Molly.
He repeated the question, this time more deliberately, as if now he weighed it.
"I--I'd get up an' fight some more," declared Molly, surprised into genuine sincerity.
He smiled. Then something beside surprise happened to Molly. "You would?
Suppose then you got licked sure?"
"It wouldn't make no difference," replied Molly, at last forgetting to watch her speech. And she smiled back at him.
He saw her really then as a girl, and not as any individual who might propound a personal point of view. Leaning his elbows on the counter, he regarded her with interest verging upon admiration.
"Very well, I'll take your hunch. I'll not quit. If they lick me--I should say when they lick me, I'll get up and fight some more."
His words were severe, his purpose almost grim, yet Molly realized the best compliment she ever had received was being paid her.
"I never saw you before," he went on.
"That isn't my fault," replied Molly, demurely, with level gaze on him.
What a nice face he had!
"But you don't live in Flag," he protested.
"No indeed."
"Where then?"
"I'm from the Cibeque."
"Cibeque. Is that a town or a ranch or what?"
"It's a valley."
"Never heard of it. How far?"
"Two days' ride."
"Just here on a visit?" continued the young man, and it was manifest that every word carried him farther into interest.
"Yes. We leave in the mawnin'," said Molly,
"I--I don't do anythin' but wait on them," gasped Molly.
"That's it. Guess they think you're cold when you're only shy," went on Miss Price. "But you can have a heap of fun. Keep on freezing them.
Tomorrow night you'll have the time of your life."
"Tomorrow night?" faltered Molly.
"Sure. Big dance after the rodeo. Didn't my mother tell you? Anyway, you're going with us."
"I--I hadn't heard. It's terrible kind of you. But I really couldn't go.
I'm such a stranger. An' if they--they think--"
"You dear kid! You are going. Mrs. See promised mother."
Molly thrillingly resigned herself to the unknown. The afternoon ended all too soon, and she rode back to town, babbling to the pleased Mrs. See about the adventure she was having. That night they were out to dine with relatives of Mrs. See. No other young person was present and Molly had the relief of being comparatively unnoticed. These serious older people talked about the affairs of the town and the range, all of which found lodgment in Molly's mind.
Chapter THREE
It was Saturday afternoon and the rodeo had just begun, which accounted for the deserted appearance of the grounds adjacent. Molly had remained longer than was really necessary. Mrs. See would be waiting for her at the stand. She was about to leave when she saw that she was to have a last customer.
A young man, in overalls and heavy boots, got off a dusty horse and approached the booth. He asked for something to eat and drink. Apparently he took no notice of Molly. His face wore a troubled look.
Of all the young men Molly had waited upon in two days, this was the first one who had not looked at her twice, and the only one who had not appeared gay or bold or pleasant. Molly felt a little pique and secondly more than a little curiosity.
He might have been twenty-two or -three years old and evidently was not a cowboy. Molly judged that he would have been fair-skinned if he had not been so sunburnt. His nose had begun to peel, but these demerits did not exactly keep him from being handsome. Presently he laid his sombrero on the counter, which act disclosed light wavy hair, and a broad brow marred by deep furrows.
He struck Molly just about right, and considering her vast experience during these two days, she imagined she was a connoisseur in young men.
He slowly drank the last of his coffee, and looking up, met Molly's glance. Then she knew he had not seen her before. He had gray eyes full of shadows.
"What'd you do if you were just about licked?" he queried suddenly.
"Sir?" exclaimed Molly.
He repeated the question, this time more deliberately, as if now he weighed it.
"I--I'd get up an' fight some more," declared Molly, surprised into genuine sincerity.
He smiled. Then something beside surprise happened to Molly. "You would?
Suppose then you got licked sure?"
"It wouldn't make no difference," replied Molly, at last forgetting to watch her speech. And she smiled back at him.
He saw her really then as a girl, and not as any individual who might propound a personal point of view. Leaning his elbows on the counter, he regarded her with interest verging upon admiration.
"Very well, I'll take your hunch. I'll not quit. If they lick me--I should say when they lick me, I'll get up and fight some more."
His words were severe, his purpose almost grim, yet Molly realized the best compliment she ever had received was being paid her.
"I never saw you before," he went on.
"That isn't my fault," replied Molly, demurely, with level gaze on him.
What a nice face he had!
"But you don't live in Flag," he protested.
"No indeed."
"Where then?"
"I'm from the Cibeque."
"Cibeque. Is that a town or a ranch or what?"
"It's a valley."
"Never heard of it. How far?"
"Two days' ride."
"Just here on a visit?" continued the young man, and it was manifest that every word carried him farther into interest.
"Yes. We leave in the mawnin'," said Molly,
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