"I give up Silver Cup and my stock. Maybe that will content Holderness."
Some days went by pleasantly for Hare, as he rested from his long
exertions. Naab's former cheer and that of his family reasserted itself
once the decision was made, and the daily life went on as usual. The
sons worked in the fields by day, and in the evening played at pitching
horseshoes on the bare circle where the children romped. The women went
on baking, sewing, and singing. August Naab's prayers were more fervent
than ever, and he even prayed for the soul of the man who had robbed him.
Mescal's cheeks soon rounded out to their old contour and her eyes shone
with a happier light than Hare had ever seen there. The races between
Silvermane and Black Bolly were renewed on the long stretch under the
wall, and Mescal forgot that she had once acknowledged the superiority of
the gray. The cottonwoods showered silken floss till the cabins and
grass were white; the birds returned to the oasis; the sun kissed warm
color into the cherries, and the distant noise of the river seemed like
the humming of a swarm of bees.
"Here, Jack," said August Naab, one morning, "get a spade and come with
me.
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