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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Then Harding did n't quit on his own hook?" queried Whallen. "He did n't quit at all. He's going back in a few days if he gets through being drunk. He told me he had to get through before the lambs was born. He did n't know about any woman." "Humph! Brown went off by himself and did herding like that before. He acts queer lately. He don't say much." "That's what Pete said.
"She must be intending to make a stay to turn him loose like that," remarked Bill Whallen. Further discussion yielding nothing but these same facts, the talk came round to horse-lore again. A while later, Whallen, having called for his mail and received none, stepped out of the post-office and ran his eye along the row of horses at the hitching-rack.
He was one of them uncalled-for kind like that suit of clothes they sold me up in Chicago. And Steve Brown says to me, 'I should say they were uncalled for, entirely uncalled for. They can't fool me on horses, though." "Say!" said Whallen; "Ed Curtis got in from Belleview yesterday. When he was coming along the road he met a girl on a sorrel. And last night Tuck Reedy "
I guess you think he is one of them nice fat horses that you have got to feel." "That's right, Al," remarked Whallen. "Buy a horse like that and you see what you 're getting. What's the use feeling when the package is open?"
Whallen examined the horse's bones and teeth; then he stepped back and took a general all-over view. "What do you think of it?" asked the drug clerk. "Is he for sale?" inquired Whallen, before answering. "No, he ain't for sale," answered Todd. "This fellow thinks he ain't a nice horse." "Well," said Whallen, "a man can easy enough put meat on a horse. But he can't put the bones in him."
"Nor the git-ap," added Todd. "Does he know anything?" asked Whallen. "That's just what he does," answered Todd. "I threw a steer with him yesterday and he held it while I made a tie. A steer can't get any slack rope on him. He surprised me." "Who had him?" inquired Whallen. "Don't know. I bought him up at the county-seat.
And Whallen went on to tell about the strange case of Steve Brown and the woman. "Was he sure that was Steve Brown?" the drug clerk questioned. "Reedy could n't say it was Brown for certain; he did n't get a right good view of his face. He said it looked like him. But he could see the woman plain." "Why, sure that was Brown," said the owner of the horse.
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