!" exclaimed Reedy, "that must 'a' been the horse I seen out on the
grass. He was a short-coupled sorrel with a stocking on his near hind
leg, and he had a star. I thought to myself that he looked corn-fed."

"That's hers. She wore a man's hat. It was turned up on one side with
a big breastpin. I noticed it wasn't any eight-dollar hat; she had to
fix it that way to stiffen the brim in front. It was a black hat."

"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. At the end of the row was an extremely
starved-looking animal; and he was being stoutly defended by his owner,
Al Todd, against the aspersions of the drug clerk.

"All that horse needs," said Al Todd, "is a little something to eat.
What do you expect of a horse that is just out of the poor-house?
There's a real horse. Look at his framework. Look at them legs. Look
at how he's ribbed up."

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. 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--"

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.

"Reed