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Updated: June 28, 2025
You didn't know your assailant was a horse WHEN YOU FIRED. Look at the attack on you in the road!" Richards shook his head with dogged hopelessness. "It's no use, Mr. Grey. I oughter guessed it was a hoss then thar was nothin' else in that corral. No! Cota's already gone away back to San Jose, and I reckon the Ramierez has got scared of her and packed her off.
Grey that fool was myself!" "You! Again attacked!" "Yes," said Richards, with a darkening face. "Again attacked, and by the same hoss! Cota's hoss! Whether Cota was or was not knowin' its tricks, she was actually furious at me for killin' it and it's all over 'twixt me and her." "Nonsense," said the editor impulsively; "she will forgive you!
But he was the more astonished in noticing that her mustang was as distinct and peculiar as herself a mongrel mare of the extraordinary type known as a "pinto," or "calico" horse, mottled in lavender and pink, Arabian in proportions, and half broken! Her greenish gray eyes, in which too much of the white was visible, had, he fancied, a singular similarity of expression to Cota's own!
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