The Dude Wrangler Part 12

"So you thought you'd b.u.t.t in and queer the sale of it. I suppose you'd suffer somethin' horrible if there was a horse-deal on and you had to keep your mouth shut?"

Mr. McGonnigle protested feebly that he had no such idea when he gave the horse's history, and Wallie was much interested in the wrangle, but he thought he caught a glimpse of Canby through one of the doorways of a stable so he hurried across the yard and found him in conversation with Boise Bill, who was grooming a work-horse which quite evidently was to be auctioned.

Boise Bill grinned when he saw Wallie and nodded. Canby stepped out and greeted Wallie with some affability.

"I've been watching for you. Have you bid on anything?"

"Not yet. But I saw a fine-looking cow that I mean to buy if she is all she ought to be," Wallie replied with a touch of importance. "It seems to me that a good cow will help out wonderfully. I am very fond of milk and it will be useful in cooking. With a cow and a hen or two----"

Canby and Wallie crossed the yard to where a mild-eyed Jersey was being dressed in a halter preparatory to being led forward and put up at auction.

"Will you be good enough to permit me to examine this animal?" Wallie asked of her caretaker.

"Sh.o.r.e," he replied, heartily, though he looked puzzled.

Wallie drew off his riding gloves and stepped up briskly in a professional manner and pried open the mouth of the protesting cow.

He exclaimed as he let go abruptly:

"Why--she's old! I don't want her. She hasn't a single tooth left in her upper jaw. It's a fortunate thing I looked at her."

A small boy roosting on the corral snickered. The cow's guardian smiled broadly and openly and deliberately winked at Canby.

Offended, Wallie demanded:

"Am I in error as to her age?"

"Well--if a cow ever had a set of teeth in her upper jaw she'd be in a side-show. They don't have 'em. This cow is only three--a young animal."

"That's true," Canby a.s.sented.

"I declare! It seems very curious," Wallie exclaimed, astounded. He added, with all his importance punctured:

"I fear I have much to learn."

"This is a good place to learn it," observed the cow's valet.

Wallie bought the Jersey at private sale, and needless to say, paid its full value.

"She'll be fresh in January," the man said to him.

Wallie looked bewildered, so the other explained further:

"She'll have a calf." He said it in such a confidential manner that Wallie thought it was a secret and lowered his voice to answer:

"I'm glad of it." He had a notion that he had gotten the best of Canby and wished that Miss Spenceley and The Colonial folk knew he had made a shrewd bargain and gotten a herd started.

To Canby, who accompanied him on his tour of inspection, he said eagerly:

"Where I wish your a.s.sistance is in the selection of my work-horses.

What would you advise? Have you a pair in mind, Mr. Canby?" Canby reflected.

"That was a good horse Boise Bill was currying," he suggested.

"Yes, I noticed him. Is there another like him?"

"I believe he is one of a team."

Canby was correct in his surmise. The pair were well matched and, impressed by their looks and strength, Wallie was delighted and determined to have them if possible.

"Fourteen hundred is a good weight for your purpose--above that they are apt to be clumsy," said Canby.

Wallie agreed enthusiastically.

"My own idea exactly. You see, I'll have to use them for driving as well as working, until I can afford a motor."

The gathering was composed mostly of good, honest folk but plain ones.

They did, however, seem to know exactly what they were buying and why they wanted it, and Wallie was fearful that a pair of such exceptional horses would be run up to a figure beyond his resources. He wished they would bring them out and end the suspense which was momentarily growing greater as he thought of losing them.

Boise Bill drove the pair from the stable finally, just as a powerful machine arrived and took a place in the outer circle. New arrivals had no interest at the moment for Wallie, who was as nervous as a young opera singer.

As Boise Bill walked behind the team slapping them with a rope-end to drive them forward, it occurred to Wallie that it would have been much simpler to have led them, but as every one had his own way of doing things in this country he gave no further thought to the matter.

If he had not been so anxious and intent upon what was about to happen, he might also have observed an interchange of knowing looks among the gentlemen whose clothes were secured mostly with shingle-nails and baling-wire.

The team looked all the auctioneer declared them to be as they stood head to head--young, strong, perfectly matched--and he defied all Wyoming to find a blemish on them.

The gentlemen in patched overalls seemed willing to take his word for it, since no one stepped forward to examine the team, and they listened with such attention while he extolled their virtues that it sickened Wallie, who already felt the thrill of ownership as he looked at them.

"The greatest pullers in the State"; the auctioneer made a point of it, repeating it several times for emphasis.

Wallie scanned the faces of the crowd to see if he could detect any special interest that would denote a rival bidder, and he wished the auctioneer would stop harping on their good qualities. It surprised him a little that he saw none of his own eagerness reflected in the varied expressions, also it relieved him somewhat. If he had had an unlimited bank account it would have been different, but he realized that any determined opponent could outbid him, so he found himself in a perspiration as he waited.

"How high do you think I should go?" he asked of his friend and advisor.

"That depends on how badly you want them."

"They suit me exactly."

"Horses of that cla.s.s are selling around $500, but you might venture a little more, since you like them."

"That's just about what I am able to pay. My goodness, but I hope I'm not outbid! You wouldn't believe how nervous I am. It's such a new experience that I am really agitated."

The statement was unnecessary, since Canby could see Wallie's knees trembling in his riding breeches.

"How much am I offered for this pair of magnificent young horses?" asked the auctioneer, ingratiatingly.

Wallie, who had not such a case of stage-fright since he first sang in public "Oh, that we two were Maying," bid instantly: