ti»a waUuxutft tiuugh, wliera sha
thirstily. Glen stopped her before sde
dad taken •too much. ♦
"Tdat's enough for now, old glrL"
She willingly went Into her stall, and
Glen covered her with a blanket. Wdea
be dad come out and closed tde door, she
stuck her head through the opening and
let Jo pet her nose.
"I do believe she forgives met" Jo
laughed shakily.
"I hope so.”
Glen purposely kept all sympathy out
of his voice, although he knew the poor
child must be exhausted.
‘‘Well, then I guess there’s nothing to
do but go home. Is there?"
“No," he replied. “Nothing to do but
go home. Good night."
“Good night.” And then faintly, “And
I am sorry."
f-'tLEN got into his car and drove away
without looking back to where her
car was parked. It would be just like her
to have engine trouble or something.
And he didn’t want to have to tow her
home.
But then there was Pal. Had he re
membered to cover her with a blanket?
Pal mustn’t catch cold. He turned his
car around, telling himself firmly that it
was only because of Pal.
Jo’s car was right where she had left
it, and Jo was nowhere in sight. Won
deringly, he went down to Pal’s stall. H#
stopped when he heard a voice — a sweet,
contrite little voice.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you for the
world, darling. Nobody ever told me be
fore that rules were important. And he
hates me now. Pal— and " There
was a little choking sob. “And I’ve gone
and f-faller in 1-love with him!”
“Who’s there?” asked Glen loudly.
The air was filled with sudden heavy
silence.
“How many times have I told you not
to talk to yourself. Pal!”
He opened the door of the stall and his
arms encircled a trembling little figure
in white. He held her close, her head
nestled against his shoulder, and he
could feel warm tears through his flan
nel shirt
“Everything’s all right, honey. Pal’a
going to get well. Don’t cry.”
She raised her head and looked at him
in wonder.
“And you don’t hate me?”
If his heart had not already melted, it
would have melted now at the child-like
radiance in her face. He had to swallow
a lump in his throat, she was so beau
tiful in the moonlight.
“No, darling, I don’t hate you. Is there
any room for me in your collection?”
She smiled at him with starry eyes.
“I never really liked collecting.” she
said, and added softly. “I’d much rather
be collected ”
Then he did the thing he had been
wanting to do all evening. He kissed her.
And Pal turned her head in faint sur
prise, swishing her tail to show her ap
proval.
I SUB V#J:• ■ v *
“4R. *» t?
AO CApi coaiuu unowtu
Glen s face, and he turned hi| atten
tion Mfck to Palomino.
“I see you've heard of me,” she said
with a little toss of her h#ad. "The
wicked other woman in the Lewis case.”
"Bob Lewis was a friend of mine,” Glen
said coolly.
“ 'Was'” ”
“ ‘W s.' And Vera still is.”
“She got her divorce on incompatibil
ity,” Jo reminded him.
"That was nice of her."
“Think what you want,” she said icily.
“My friends know that Bob Lewis made
a fool of himself."
Glen gave her a fleeting glance, then
•»ntinu i to brush Pal. “I agree,” he
replied
She walked away, her slender body
straighter than ever; and a moment later
when Sundown was saddled, she spurned
the mounting block, swung quickly into
tht saddle and, using her spur, left the
stable at a canter.
•Hey'” yelled Glen.
But if she heard, she did not turn in
the saddle
• Some people get my goat.” Glen told
Pal. •'Some people don’t know what
rules are for ”
Although he should have gone up to
the clubhouse to make arrangements for
the Sunday morning breakfast, he waited
for Jo to return, relishing the idea of
telling her a thing or two. She was back
in an hour, looking •prettier than ever,
her face flushed, her eyes shining, her
hair loosened by the wind.
Before she dismounted, he said coldly
“Wien you leave the stables, always
walk your horse.”
••Check.” she replied in an equally
frosty voice.
He thought that she would never come
back; in fact, he told himself he sincerely
hoped he would never see her again. But
his wishes were wasted. She came down
for a canter every morning and had
lunch at the clubhouse every noon And
in the afternoon she was usually to be
found in the clubrooms surrounded by
an ever-increasing crowd of girls and
men.
And, if gossip had it right, at least
two of the men were in love with her:
Phil, tall and thin; Chuck, short and
stocky. The thing that made Glen mad
dest was that they were letting it spoil
their polo game. Glen was trying hard
to build up a good team, and had done
rather well until his two best players got
to quarreling In practice games, when
they were on opposite sides, they rode
tor blood and every few minutes had to
have f ouls called on them.
Chuck actually seemed bent on un
horsing Phil; and Phil. Glen noticed,
was pretty free about swinging his mallet
where it might hit Chuck's mount
*Hey, you guys!” yelled Glen one day.
•this is a polo game, not a wrestling
match.”
After that he was careful to see that
the rivals always played on the same
side. But they did not make very good
teammates, often trying to steal each
other’s shots
Glen carefully avoided running into
couldn’t feel flattered. It had Just been
her way out of a difficulty.
They led the procession in a smooth
canter.
“Pal’s a darling,” Jo said happily.
“She surely is,” he agreed. “If any
one should mistreat Pal, I’d want to hang
him.”
“No one would, I’m sure,” said Jo.
Glen grinned. “Why aren’t you al
ways agreeable like this?”
“I am,” she insisted, “except when you
pick on me.”
“You’re always breaking rules,” he ac
cused her.
“I can’t help it. They Just don’t seem
important.”
“Some rules are mighty important.
And when you break them, you’re sure to
get into trouble.”
The next moment Pal had darted
ahead. For an instant, Glen was
alarmed. Was Pal running away? Then
he saw Jo use her crop. Apparently it
was the girl and not the mare who was
running away. He made no effort ti
catch up with her. She could wait foi
him at Livingston Drive.
rpHEY arrived at the clubhouse grounds
and rode out to the oak grove where
there was a barbecue pit and long tables;
but there was no sign of Jo. Glen began
to be worried. The mare had been in
pretty high spirits; maybe Jo couldn’t
handle her. He went back to the stables
to see if Pal had come in, but she had
not.
“Hey! Where’s Jo?” asked Chuck
when Glen returned.
“She rode on ahead.” He tried to
speak casually. “No telling where she is
by now.”
However, it was with a great feeling
of relief that he finally saw Jo riding
toward them. „
“We had the grandest ride. Pal and I,"
she cried. “Pal was crazy to go, so I let
her run all she wanted to.”
There was a strange silence among the
group around the table.
“Isn’t any one going to offer me a
sandwich?” Jo laughed nervously. “How
about it, Glen?”
He did not even hear her. He was
running his finger over the mare’s wet
body. Then he felt her forelegs, and
without a word led Pal toward the road.
they might have won if Jo had not pa
raded herself before the team.
Os course, he couldn’t tell her that;
she was too conceited already. He glow
ered at her across the room where she
sat surrounded by the usual crowd and
flirted outrageously with a dark-haired
man whom he had never seen before
A moment later she was introducing him
to Glen.
“Mr. Stewart,” she said sweetly, “I
want you to meet an old friend of mine—
BUI Howe.”
The men shook hands, then Bill put
his arm around Jo’e waist.
“Jo and I have been sweethearts since
grammar-school days.”
Once a month, when the moon was full,
the club had a moonlight ride, fol
lowed by a barbecue. Reservations were
always made in advance. Glen had been
watching for Jo’s name, but it had not
appeared. Consequently he was rather
surprised when she arrived decked out
in a new white riding habit and a jockey
cap pulled down rakishly over her dark
hair.
“The horses are all spoken for,” he
told her, regretfully.
“Isn’t there even one?” she inquired.
“What about Pal?”
“We haven’t been riding her, but I
guess it will be aU right. We won’t go
far.”
The others waited while Pal was being
saddled. Then they all rode down to the
beach together, where a round moon
made a sUver path along the wet sand
and brightened the breakers with a phos
phorescent glow. Glen brought his horse
to a standstill.
<<TT’S important to stay on the wet
A sand,” he said to the riders, “and out
ol the water We’d better go in two’s. If
we get separated, we’ll all meet at Liv
ingston Drive and go home that way.”
“Rules! Always rules!” moaned Jo.
“WUI you ride with me?” Chuck asked
her.
But he was too late. BUI was on one
side of her and Phil on the other.
“Sorry.” said Jo. “I’m riding with
Glen.”
“Come on, then,” Glen ordered. He
“It’s a good thing you are not a man,” 9aid Glenn. “Oh, I wish I were,”
she choked. “I wish you would beat me. I didn’t know I was hurting her”
sented him with a package, which he im
mediately handed to Jo.
“With my compliments,” he said
grandly.
“Oh, lookee!” squealed Jo, on unwrap
ping the treasure. She held up the
bronze statue of a polo player on a
horse.
Glen had been proud of his choice of
prizes, as the small statue was very weU
done. And he could see that Jo appre
ciated it, even though she , tossed her
head impudently and said: “I told you
I collected polo players, Mr. Glen Stew
art."
/
THE following week he was able to
avoid the annoying girl without
much trouble, as he was very busy pre
paring for the club’s first real polo
match, which was to be held on Sunday
afternoon. Phil and Chuck seemed to
have come to their senses at last and
were playing a very good game.
Saturday things looked fine for the
event. The horses and players were in
excellent condition; the game had been
well advertised and a large number of
tickets sold. Glen rounded up the team
for general instructions, adding:
“And no stepping out tonight. No
dancing, no drinking and no late hours!”
In the middle of the first chukker,
with one goal credited to the visiting
team and cars stiff blowing their horns
for a goal by the home team, Glen saw
her. She was riding Sundown in the
space beyond the grandstand. Phil and
Chuck saw her, too. Glen groaned as
Phil tried for a grandstand play and
missed.
When the chukker ended, Glen left
the field and galloped over to where she
rode.
“Will you please stop waving the red
cape?” he begged.
Her brows arched in surprise. "What
red cape?”
•This isn't a bull fight,” he raged.
“I get it.” She turned her horse
haughtily and cantered back toward the
stables.
The home team lost the game by one
goal; and Glen couldn’t help feeling that
Jo; but one afternoon he was pass
ing through the club on his way to the
kitchen when Chuck called to him.
“Here 1s a lady you really should meet,”
said Chuck. “Miss Travis, this is Glen
Stewart, the best polo player in the club.”
Jo took his hand demurely, as though
she had never seen him before.
“I collect polo players,” she drawled.
“Sorry ” Glen’s smile was a mixture
of condescension and disdain. “Sorry,
out I don't collect.”
And he walked away as though being
introduced to a girl like Jo was an every
day experience with him. It would do
her good to know that there were some
men who were not completely unhorsed
by her charms.
Sunday morning the air was brisk and
clear— an ideal day for the hunt. A
dozen horses and riders were gathered
together waiting impatiently while Glen
explained the rules.
“There's a gunny sack buried some
where in the field.” he announced. "If
you see a corner of it sticking out, dis
mount and claim it. The one who finds
the sack gets the treasure, which is back
at the clubhouse. But don't get off your
horse unless you're sure it’s the sack
you're looking at. If you dismount more
than once, you’re disqualified.”
HE gave the signal and the horses were
off at a gentle canter in all direction*.
Glen was watching Jo and was surprised
to see her stop in the middle of the
field. She slipped from her saddle,
shortened the left stirrup a notch and a
moment later calmly joined the hunt.
Glen’s eyes flashed angrily. Always
creaking the rules, he thought. She
thinks they apply to every one but her
self.
He strode into the field and intercepted
her horse.
“You’re out of the race." he said.
“But I only dismounted to shorten my
stirrup.” she argued
•Rules are rules,” he said sternly.
"But I wasn't comfortable!”
“Any one could give that excuse,” he
said coldly.
She flashed him a stony look and
reined her horse over to the side lines.
Chuck won the hunt. When the crowd
returned *o the clubhouse Glen pre-