CHAPTER VII

The next morning James was awakened by loud voices coming from the vicinity of the stable.  He had not slept very well, and now at dawn felt drowsy, but the voices would not let him sleep.  He rose, dressed, and went out in the stable-yard.  There he found Doctor Gordon, Aaron, and a strange man, small, and red-haired, and thin-faced, with shifty eyes, holding by the bridle a fine black horse.

“Don’t want to buy a horse with a bridle on,” Doctor Gordon was saying as James appeared.

“Do you think I’m the man to bear insults?” inquired the little red-haired man with fierceness.

“Insult nothing.  It is business,” said Gordon.

“That’s so,” Aaron said, chewing and eyeing the black horse and the red-haired man thoughtfully.

“Well,” said the little red-haired man with an air at once of injured innocence and ferocity, “if you want to know why I object to selling this horse without a bridle, come here, and I’ll show you.”  Gordon and Aaron and James approached.  The red-haired man slipped the bridle, and underneath it appeared a small sore.  “There, that’s the reason, and I’ll tell you the truth,” said the man defiantly.  “Here I am trying to sell this darned critter; paid a cool hundred for him, and everybody says jest as you do, won’t buy him with the bridle on.  Then I takes off the bridle, and they sees this little bile, and there’s an end to it.  I suppose it’s the same with you.  Well, good day, gentlemen.  You’re losin’ a darned good trade, but it ain’t my fault.  Here’s an animal I paid a cool hundred for, and I’m offering him for ninety.  I’m ten dollars out, besides my time.”

“Let me see that sore again,” said Gordon.  He slipped the bridle and examined the place carefully.  Then he looked hard at the horse, which stood with great docility, although he held his head proudly.  He was a fine beast, glossy black in color, and had a magnificent tail.

“Make it eighty-five,” said Gordon.

“Couldn’t think of it.”

“I don’t know as I want the horse anyway,” said Gordon.

“I’ll call it eighty-seven and a half,” said the little red-haired man.

Gordon stood still for a moment.  Then he pulled out his wallet.  “Eighty-six and call it square,” he said.

“All right,” said the red-haired man.  “It’s a-givin’ of him away, but I’m so darned tired of trampin’ the country with him, that I’ll call it eighty-six, and it’s the biggest bargain you ever got in your life in the way of horse flesh.  I wouldn’t let him go at that figure, but my wife’s sick, and I want to get home.”

The red-haired man carefully counted over the roll of bank-notes which Doctor Gordon gave him, although it seemed to James that he used some haste.  He also thought that he was evidently anxious to be gone.  He refused Gordon’s offer of breakfast, saying that he had already had some at the hotel.  Then he was gone, walking with uncommon speed for such a small man.  Aaron, James, and Doctor Gordon stood contemplating the new purchase.  James patted him.  “He looks like a fine animal,” he remarked.  Aaron shifted his quid, and said with emphasis, “Want me to hitch up and bring that little red-haired cuss back?”