nd wished he might find
Canby.

As he stood speculating as to whether the folds of skin around the
Durham's neck might be an indication of his age--a year for a fold,
after the manner of snake-rattles--his attention was diverted to a group
that was interested in the efforts of one of its members to pry a
horse's mouth open.

It seemed to Wallie an excellent opportunity to learn something which
might be of future use to him, so he joined it.

A man who looked capable of selling a runaway horse to his grandmother
was saying emphatically:

"Eight, next spring, I tell you. We raised her a pet on the ranch, so I
ought to know what I'm talkin' about."

The person who had managed to separate the horse's jaws laughed
uproariously:

"If she ever sees sixteen again----"

"She ain't over eight, and I'll take my oath on it," interrupted the
owner, with a fine show of indignation.

"If I could believe you, I'd buy her."

A piping voice from the group interjected itself into the conversation.
It came from under the limp brim of a hat that dropped to the speaker's
shoulders.

"Why, I knowed that harse when I first come to the country. She was
runnin' with her mother over in the Bighorns, and Bear George at
Tensleep owned her. Some said that Frank McMannigle's runnin' harse,
'Left Hand,' was her father, and others said she was jest a ketch colt,
but I dunno. Her mother was a sorrel with a star in her forehead and the
Two-pole-punkin' brand on her left shoulder. If I ain't mistaken, she
had one white hind stockin' and they was a wire cut above her hock that
was kind of a blemish. She got a ring bone and they had to kill her, but
Bear George sold the colt, this mare here, to a feller at Kaysee over on
Powder River and he won quite considerable money on her. It was about
thirteen year ago that I last seen her, but I knowed her the minute I
laid eyes on her. She et musty hay one winter and got the tizic, but you
never would know it unless you run her. One of her stifle j'ints----"

The mare's owner interrupted at this juncture:

"You jest turn your mouth on, don't you, Tex, and go off and leave it?"

"I happened to know a little somethin' about this harse," apologetically
began "Tex," whose other name was McGonnigle, "so I thought----"

"So you thought you'd butt 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 prote