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◈At that instant, as Alexa and Cutting started to their feet, the sun winked far off, down the slope, upon the sleek hide of a blood-bay horse.
“John,” said she, “come with me to the house.”
“If you wish to be sheltered from this—Holden,” said the latter, his square jaw thrusting out in fine style, “I should be delighted to accommodate you, Alexa.”
“Hush!” she cried, capturing his hand and drawing him along. “You don’t understand. He’s a terrible person—thinks nothing of taming wild horses, or of killing men. God knows how many murders are to his credit.”
“This is the twentieth century, Alexa,” said John Cutting. “They hang such fellows nowadays!”
“This is the twentieth century,” she agreed with a sigh, “but it’s not New York. And in this part of the country they are very hard on
