wear a nightie once more! I
don't have to, do I, Daddy Chip? Not with lace on it. Happy Jack says
I'm a girl long as I wear lace nighties, and I ain't a girl. Am I, Daddy
Chip?"

"I should say not!" Chip testified emphatically, and carried the iron
bar to the forge for further heating.

"I'm going on roundup too, tomorrow afternoon." The Kid's conception
of time was extremely sketchy and had no connection whatever with the
calendar. "I'm going to keep Silver in the little corral and let him
sleep in the box stall where his leg got well that time he broke it.
I 'member when he had a rag tied on it and teased for sugar. And the
Countess has got to quit a kickin' every time I need sugar for my
string. Ain't she, Daddy Chip? She's got to let us men alone or there'll
be something doing!"

"I'd tell a man," said Chip inattentively, only half hearing the
war-like declaration of his offspring--as is the way with busy fathers.

"I'm going to take a ride now on Silver. I guess I'll ride in to Dry
Lake and get the mail--and I'm 'pletely outa the makings, too."

"Uh-hunh--a--what's that? You keep off Silver. He'll kick the daylights
out of you, Kid. Where's your hat? Didn't your mother tell you she'd tie
a sunbonnet on you if you didn't keep your hat on? You better hike back
and get it, young man, before she sees you."

The Kid stared mutinously from the doorway. "You said I could have
Silver. What's the use of having a string if a feller can't ride it? And
I CAN ride him, and he don't kick at all. I rode him just now, in the
little pasture to see if I liked his gait better than the others. I rode
Banjo first and I wouldn't own a thing like him, on a bet. Silver'll do
me till I can get around to break a real one."

Chip's hand dropped from the bellows while he stared hard at the Kid.
"Did you go down in the pasture and--Words failed him just then.

"I'd TELL a man I did!" the Kid retorted, with a perfect imitation
of Chip's manner and tone when crossed. "I've been trying out all the
darned benchest you've got--and there ain't a one I'd give a punched
nickel for but Silver. I'd a rode Shootin' Star, only he wouldn't stand
still so I could get onto him. Whoever broke him did a bum job. The
horse I break will stand, or I'll know the reason why. Silver'll stand,
all right. And I can guide him pretty well by slapping his neck. You did
a pretty fair job when you broke Silver," the Kid informed his father
patronizingly.

Chip