nguine. He was selling the horse on commission, and its owner had
insisted on Bob's true character being given. The dealer gave it.

"Not what you'd call a real vicious horse, but a dangerous one. Full of
vinegar and all-round cussedness, but without malice. Just as soon kill
you as not, but in a playful sort of way, you understand, without
meaning to at all. Personally, I wouldn't think of riding him. But
he's a stayer. Look at them lungs. And look at them legs. Not a
blemish. He's never been hurt or worked. Nobody ever succeeded in
taking it out of him. Mountain horse, too, trail-broke and all that,
being raised in rough country. Sure-footed as a goat, so long as he
don't get it into his head to cut up. Don't shy. Ain't really afraid,
but makes believe. Don't buck, but rears. Got to ride him with a
martingale. Has a bad trick of whirling around without cause It's his
idea of a joke on his rider. It's all just how he feels One day he'll
ride along peaceable and pleasant for twenty miles. Next day, before
you get started, he's well-nigh unmanageable. Knows automobiles so he
can lay down alongside of one and sleep or eat hay out of it. He'll
let nineteen go by without batting an eye, and mebbe the twentieth,
just because he's feeling frisky, he'll cut up over like a range
cayuse. Generally speaking, too lively for a gentleman, and too
unexpected. Present owner nicknamed him Judas Iscariot, and refuses to
sell without the buyer knowing all about him first. There, that's
about all I know, except look at that mane and tail. Ever see anything
like it? Hair as fine as a baby's."

The dealer was right. Daylight examined the mane and found it finer
than any horse's hair he had ever seen. Also, its color was unusual in
that it was almost auburn. While he ran his fingers through it, Bob
turned his head and playfully nuzzled Daylight's shoulder.

"Saddle him up, and I'll try him," he told the dealer. "I wonder if
he's used to spurs. No English saddle, mind. Give me a good Mexican
and a curb bit--not too severe, seeing as he likes to rear."

Daylight superintended the preparations, adjusting the curb strap and
the stirrup length, and doing the cinching. He shook his head at the
martingale, but yielded to the dealer's advice and allowed it to go on.
And Bob, beyond spirited restlessness and a few playful attempts, gave
no trouble. Nor in the hour's ride that followed, save for some
permissible curveti