The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1945-09-07
CHAPTER XIII

AS she approached him, every
thing forgotten but the longing for
closeness and understanding, he
looked up at her. Her iris-colored
eyes were dark with emotion. They
were Swallowed underneath, but they
were full of gentleness and affec-
ton and her smile pleaded for rec
onciliation. Rob held out his hand
to her. She leaned over to kiss him
and he kissed her in return. Their
eyes did not quite meet.
care you going up?" he asked.
eyes"
"Don't wait for me. I'm going
to read awhile"
The 'ttrack" was half mile oval
on the level range north Of Lone
Tree Creek, about two miles from
the ranch house.
This had been selected by the
boys Immediately upon their arrival
home from school this summer as
Thunderhead's practice and trial
ground. There was a natural grand
stand to one side, peak of craggy
rock spearing up. They had out
lined the oval track by setting posts
at the curves. These posts-Thun-
derhead must understandable was to
run outside of, not in. Sometimes he
did, sometimes he did not. Not that
he did not understand! They had
painted a broad band of white
across the course at the finish, just
in front of the grandstand and here
Thunderhead had run many a mile,
wondering, no doubt, where was the
sense in it. Running to shelter in
storm-running away from enemies
and dangerous places-just even
running with his own band for fun
and exercise on the Saddle Back
this could be understood. But rum
ming on the fiat range, often at top
speed, around and around those
posts, with a small demon yelling
on top of him and another jumping
up and down on the rock-this was
incomprehensible.
The air was fresh after the storm,
the range green and dustless. Nell
was in white linen jodhpurs and
white silk shirt with the sleeves
rolled up on her slender brown
arms. Her face was without care
or worry, like child's when picnic
is ahead. She sat beside Sargent in
his car, pointing out to him the way
to the track, for it could not be
reached by any of the roads on the
ranch.
In the back of the car was How
ard with the bucket of oats. Just
before they had started they had
heard a yell, and Ken came run
ming with a bucket half full of oats
and a halter rope. His face showed
embarrassment as he apologized for
Thunderhead and stuck the bucket
in the car. "Just in case-in case
he got away or something-and
had trouble in getting him back"
$780," said Sargent, as they drove
along, che gets away, does he? And
is hard to get back?"
cav" said Howard, "he's pretty
good. we haven't been training
him very long, you know"
Sometimes" said Nell, she runs
clear off and doesn't come back
for long time. Look, Charley
you go down this slope here ane
through Lone Tree-that shallow
place there" Charley slowed down
to put the car through the creek.
"Where does the colt go?" he
asked.
"That's what we'd all like to
know" said Nell.
"He came back once with cuts
and scratches" said Howard, lean
ing over the back of their seat.
Sand terrible big wound in the
chest. Dad said a stallion had
paved him."
Charley Sargent seemed to have
been struck dumb. He stood looking
at the horses, first Thunderhead,
then the FLY, Touch And Go. She
had moved away a little and was
grazing quietly. Finally he reached
for the makings, rolled himself
cigarette and took a long puff.
"Ken," he said quietly, "I'n be
damned"
Ken, at the colts head, looked at
him anxiously, the color coming and
going in his face.
so that!" said Sargent in his
drawing voice, sis Thunderhead out
of Ficka by Appalachian"
! eyes. sir. he's by Appalachian all
right"
Show old is he?
"Just a short two. Do you-do
you think he looks pretty good, Mr..
Sargent?"
"He's nothing Of a racer"
"He isn'ti"
''Nothing like any horse ! ever
saw before. He's like a statue of
a horse that sculptors think up-all
big curves and muscles = that
head"