It was a bizarre-looking little animal, with a
long, black mane and tail, at the roots of which was a round, white
spot. It was the sort of animal that would attract attention anywhere.
"Magpie! Podner, I riz her from a colt."
"She's shore a showy beast."
"She is some on ther picture, ain't she?" asked the old man, looking the
pony over admiringly.
"She's all right, but--"
"But what, podner?" The old man looked at Bud with a frown.
"Well, I ain't none on knockin' another man's hoss, but I never see one
o' them black-an'-white-spotted animiles what could do more than lope,
an' out in this yere country hosses hez got ter run like a scared coyote
ter be any good in ther cow business."
"Yer reckon this yere Magpie can't run?" asked the old man, bristling.
"I ain't said so."
"Well, yer alluded ter a magpie hoss as couldn't do nothin' but lope."
"I ain't never see none what could do much more."
"You ain't never see Magpie split ther wind, then."
"I ain't."
"Mebbe ye'd like ter."
"Mebbe I would.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312