ake.

Well, that was sure a bad opening: "Business," sez I, "don't let go one
cent unless it's goin' to grab another an' fetch it back home;" an' I
knew that all I gave this feller would keep in circulation for the
balance of eternity. Then a brilliant thought struck me, an' I told him
I'd give him one fourth of all he got for the pony over ten dollars. He
looked at the pony an' sez, "Who gets the ten dollars?"

"I gets the ten dollars," sez I. "This is business: I own the pony, I
pay you wages to sell him, the more you sell him for the more you get."

He looks at me a moment an' then he calls a gang around him an' sez to
'em: "Here's a rich one, fellers. You see this pony--well, he was too
blame old to herd geese with when I was punchin' cows over at the
Diamond Dot, ten year ago, an' now Happy wants me to sell him, me
gettin' one fourth of all I rake in over ten dollars--an' HIM gettin'
the ten dollars. What do ya think o' that for nerve?"

Course they all laughed like a lot o' guinea-hens, but I knew that a
business man has to overlook the inborn ignorance of his customers, or
else it's twice as hard to land 'em; so I just smiled polite.

"What is your first offer, men?" sez my salesman. "Who'll give me a
hundred dollars for this grand old relic; this veteran of a hundred
wars; this venerable and honorable souvynier of bygone ages?" Well,
that blame fool went on pilin' it up while the crowd egged him on by
offerin' two bits, an' four bits, an' six bits an' a drink; an' so on
until I was disgusted and turned it off as a joke, tellin' the blasted
rascal to take the pony an' try to trade him for a night's lodgin'.

He takes my saddle an' bridle off an' puts 'em careful in the hotel,
an' then he takes the pony across the street an' begins to rub him
down. He rubs him a while an' combs out his stringy mane an' tail with
his fingers. Every now an' again he backs off an' examines that pony as
though he was actually worth stealin'. I couldn't make out what he was
up to, so I stood in front of the hotel watchin' him. Purty soon up
comes a tourist what has been lurkin' around in the distance.

"What is the' about that pony that everybody takes such an interest in
him for?" sez he, glancin' over to where us fellers was gawkin'.

"Don't you know?" sez the feller, in surprise. I can't quite recall his
name now, but I think it was Bill. Anyhow, most fellers' names is Bill,
so we'll call him Bill. "Don't you know who this po