Chapter 22 - Page 2

'Nice lookin' hoss ye got there,' said Dean.

'Grand hoss!' said Uncle Eb, surveying him proudly. 'Most
reemarkable hoss.'

'Good stepper, too,' said Dean soberly.

'Splendid!' said Uncle Eb. 'Can go a mile without ketchin' his
breath.'

'Thet so?' said Dean.

'Good deal like Lucy Purvis,' Uncle Eb added. 'She can say the hull
mul'plication table an' only breathe once. Ye can learn sumthin'
from a hoss like thet. He's good as a deestric' school - thet hoss is.'

Yes, sir, thet hoss is all right,' said Dean, as he drove away.

'Righter'n I expected,' Uncle Eb shouted, and then he covered his
mouth, shaking with suppressed laughter.

'Skunk!' he said, as we turned the animal and started to walk him
home. 'Don't min' bein' beat, but I don't like t' hev a man rub it in
on me. I'll git even with him mebbe.'

And he did. It came about in this way. We turned our new
purchase into the pasture, and Uncle Eb and I drove away to
Potsdam for a better nag. We examined all the horses in that part
of the country. At last we chanced upon one that looked like the
whistler, save that he had a white stocking on one hind foot.

'Same age, too,' said Uncle Eb, as he looked into his mouth.

'Can pass anything on the road,' said his owner.

'Can he?' said Uncle Eb, who had no taste for slow going. 'Hitch
him up an' le's see what he can do.'

He carried us faster than we had ever ridden before at a trot, and
coming up behind another team the man pulled out, let the reins
loose on his back, and whistled. If anyone had hit him with a log
chain the horse could not have moved quicker. He took us by the
other team like a flash, on the dead run and three in the buggy.

'He'll do all right,' said Uncle Eb, and paid for the horse.

It was long after dark when we started home, leading him behind,
and near midnight when we arrived.

In the morning I found Uncle Eb in the stable showing him to the
other help. To my surprise the white stocking had disappeared.

'Didn't jes' like that white stockin',' he said, as I came in.
'Wondered how he'd look without it.'

They all agreed this horse and the whistler were as much alike as
two peas in appearance. Breakfast over Uncle Eb asked the
Irishman to hitch him up.

'Come Bill,' said he, 'le's take a ride. Dean'll be comm' 'long bym
bye on his way t' town with that trotter o' his'n. 'Druther like to
meet him.'

I had only a faint idea of his purpose. He let the horse step along at
top speed going up the road and when we turned about he was
breathing heavily. We jogged him back down the road a mile or so,
and when I saw the blazed face of Dean's mare, in the distance, we
pulled up and