idn't see it. When did _this_ happen?'

"'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.'

"'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?'

"'He did,' I says.

"'On _that_?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do,
kid me?'

"'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter
a damn to me whether you believe it or not!'

"'Why, you _ain't_ kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute--'

"He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several.

"'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!'

"'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more.

"'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.'

"'What did you ever buy _him_ for?' he says.

"I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton.

"'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says.

"'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?'

"I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round
the colt a couple a times.

"'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off
your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight--_this
hoss wont never do more than walk_. But he's bred out a sight 'n' I
like his looks. There's a chance somebody could use him in the stud.
I'm willin' to get him in some sort-a shape 'n' see if I can't make a
piece of money on him. What do you say?"

"'Well,' I says, 'you're fixed better to get him in shape'n me. I just
wanted to give the little hoss a show. If _you'll_ give it to him,
he's yours.'

"'Here's your money,' says the vet. 'I'll send my wagon for him
to-morrow. Let me have a lantern till I get this leg so it won't hurt
him so bad to-night.'

"The next day every paper I picks up has a great big write-up in it
about Micky 'n' the colt. Until the wagon comes fur him there's a
regular procession to the stall to look at Hamilton, 'n' when I goes to
the hospital that night you can't see Micky fur flowers around his bed.

"'Hell!' says Micky. 'Do they think I'm a stiff?'

"'Sh-h-h!' says the sister that's nursin' him.

"I don't see Hamilton fur a month. One day I goes over to the big
Eastern sale at New York, just to hear ole Pappy Danforth sell 'em.
Pappy's stood on a block all his life. He knows every hoss-man in the
country. When _he_ tells you about a hoss, it's right; 'n' everybody
takes his tip. He just about sells 'em where they ought to go.

"Ther