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"You see, it's a smart lick of a ride to Penetier, and I want to get there before dark," he explained, kindly. I could have shouted for very glee when I saw the black mustang saddled and bridled. "He's well broke," said Cless. "Keep his bridle down when you ain't in the saddle. An' find a patch of grass fer him at night. The pony'll stick to him." Cless fell to packing a lean pack-pony.
You'll never be able to alter it, Miss Hilton, so you better take it so." "I can't do anything more at present," said Anne; "but I must be getting home again. The pony'll be wondering what's become of me. I'm very much obliged to you for the rest, Mrs Crowther. You don't think it's raining now, do you?" "No! I don't think so!" said Mrs Crowther. "How's Mary, Miss Hilton?
"If I go over 'twill only worry Miss Norah to hear an' it's most likely he'll have enough av it pretty soon, an' the pony'll come home an I do not care if he comes home widout him! I'll lave it be f'r awhile." He went slowly over to the stockyards. Cecil, cantering over the grass with Bobs' perfect stride beneath him, was, for the moment, completely satisfied with himself.
The horseman tried the turn again, throwing his weight over. This time he did feel a slightly perceptible "give." "What's the remedy?" he asked. "Build up the outer flange of the shoe. That may do it. But I shouldn't trust him without a thorough test. A good pony'll always overplay his safety a little in a close match." The implication of this expert view aroused Densmore's curiosity.
"I guess the pony'll be awful glad to get a drink," said Jan to her brother. "I guess he will," he answered, as he walked along looking carefully where he put down his feet, for he did not want to stumble and spill the water in his hat. "Look out!" exclaimed Janet, as her brother came too close to her. "If you bump against me and make my arm jiggle you'll spill my hatful."
And it's no great denial, either, for the pony'll come sometime, I'm quite sure. So don't you worry any more about how the carpenter is to be paid. Good-by, dear old fellow, "P.S. I was just as dismal as I could be after I got home, longing to go back to that dreary, dismal, good-for-nothing Culm Rock. The shells, etc., got here all right.
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