you had to
perdoose a two-fifteen gait. 'Purty good lick,' says you; 'now where
will I get the nag?' Then you sets down and thinks, and, says you, 'By
gum, which of course you wouldn't, but supposin' says you, 'a Blue Grass
bred is the hoss for that gait'; and you begin to inquire around, but
there ain't no Blue Grass bred stock in the country, and that race is
creepin' up close. One day, just when you was beginnin' to figure on
takin' the dust to the hull field, you sees a colt comin' along the road
hittin' up a purty slick gait. 'Hello,' says you, 'that looks likely,'
and you begin to negotiate, and you finds out that colt's all right and
her time's two-ten. Then you begin to talk about the weather and the
crops until you finds out the price, and you offer him half money. Then,
when you have fetched him down to the right figure, you pulls out your
wad, thinkin' how that colt will make the rest look like a line of
fence-posts. 'But hold on,' says you, 'is this here colt Blue Grass
bred?' 'Blue Grass! Not much. This here's Grey Eagle stock, North
Virginny' says he. 'Don't want her,' says you. 'What's the matter with
the colt?' says he. 'Nothin', only she ain't Blue Grass. Got to be Blue
Grass.' 'But she's got the gait, ain't she?' 'Yes, the gait's all right,
action fine, good-looking, too, nothing wrong, but she ain't Blue Grass
bred.' And so you lose your race. Now what kind of a name would you call
yourself?"

Peter saw Yankee's point, but he only shook his head more hopelessly
than before, and turned to enter the house, followed by Straight Rory,
still sighing deeply, and old Donald Ross. But Kenny remained a moment
behind the others, and offering his hand to Yankee, said: "You are a
right man, and I will be proud to know you better."

Yankee turned a puzzled face to Kenny. "I say," he inquired, in an
amazed voice, "do you think he didn't catch on to me?"

Kenny nodded. "Yes, he understood your point."

"But look here," said Yankee, "they don't hold that--that he is--"
Yankee paused. The thought was too horrible, and these men were experts,
and were supposed to know.

"It's hard to say," said Kenny, diplomatically.

"See here," said Yankee, facing Kenny squarely, "you're a purty
level-headed man, and you're up in this business. Do you think with
them? No monkeying. Straight talk now." Yankee was in no mood to be
trifled with. He was in such deadly earnest that he had forgotten all
about Ranald, who was now st