John laughed outright, while David leaned forward with his hands on his knees, looking at him with a broad though somewhat doubtful smile.

“That being your feeling,” remarked John, “I should think saddle horses would be rather out of your line.  Was it a saddle horse that the Misses Verjoos were interested in?”

“Wa’al, I didn’t buy him fer that,” replied David, “an’ in fact when the feller that sold him to me told me he’d ben rode, I allowed that ought to knock twenty dollars off ’n the price, but I did have such a hoss, an’, outside o’ that, he was a nice piece of hoss flesh.  I was up to the barn one mornin’, mebbe four years ago,” he continued, “when in drove the Verjoos carriage with one of the girls, the oldest one, inside, an’ the yeller-haired one on a hossback.  ‘Good mornin’.  You’re Mr. Harum, ain’t you?’ she says.  ‘Good mornin’,’ I says, ’Harum’s the name ’t I use when I appear in public.  You’re Miss Verjoos, I reckon,’ I says.

“She laughed a little, an’ says, motionin’ with her head to’ds the carriage, ‘My sister is Miss Verjoos.  I’m Miss Claricy.’  I took off my cap, an’ the other girl jest bowed her head a little.

“’I heard you had a hoss ‘t I could ride,’ says the one on hossback.

“‘Wa’al,’ I says, lookin’ at her hoss, an’ he was a good one,” remarked David, “‘fer a saddle hoss, I shouldn’t think you was entirely out o’ hosses long’s you got that one.’  ‘Oh,’ she says, this is my sister’s hoss.  Mine has hurt his leg so badly that I am ’fraid I sha’n’t be able to ride him this summer.’  ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ’I’ve got a hoss that’s ben rode, so I was told, but I don’t know of my own knowin’.’

“‘Don’t you ride?’ she says.  ‘Hossback?’ I says.  ‘Why, of course,’ she says. ‘No, ma’am,’ I says, ’not when I c’n raise the money to pay my fine’ She looked kind o’ puzzled at that,” remarked David, “but I see the other girl look at her an’ give a kind of quiet laugh.”

“‘Can I see him?’ says Miss Claricy.  ‘Cert’nly,’ I says, an’ went an’ brought him out.  ‘Oh!’ she says to her sister, ’ain’t he a beauty?  C’n I try him?’ she says to me.  ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ’I guess I c’n resk it if you can, but I didn’t buy him fer a saddle hoss, an’ if I’m to own him fer any len’th of time I’d ruther he’d fergit the saddle bus’nis, an’ in any case,’ I says, ‘I wouldn’t like him to git a sore back, an’ then agin,’ I says, ‘I hain’t got no saddle.’

“‘Wa’al,’ she says, givin’ her head a toss, ’if I couldn’t sit straight I’d never ride agin.  I never made a hoss’s back sore in my life,’ she says.  ‘We c’n change the saddle,’ she says, an’ off she jumps, an’, scat my ——!” exclaimed David, “the way she knowed about gettin’ that saddle fixed, pads, straps, girt’s, an’ the hull bus’nis, an’ put up her foot fer me to give her a lift, an’ wheeled that hoss an’ went out o’ the yard a-kitin’, was as slick a piece o’ hoss bus’nis as ever I see.  It took fust money, that did,”