Angus laughed. "He's no ringer. He belongs to Paul Sam." He told her as much as he thought necessary of the animal's history.
"Thanks for the confidence," she nodded. "I'll say nothing about it. If you had treated me as Dorgan did, I should have felt hurt."
"He didn't know you. He thinks this horse will give you a race."
"What, beat Flambeau!" she cried. "Nonsense!"
"Well, he seems to be a pretty good horse."
"Then I'll bet you an even hundred now!" she challenged.
"No, no. I don't want to bet with you."
"Oh, you needn't have any scruples. The boys take my money—when they can get it."
"But I don't think I'll bet at all."
"Then what on earth are you doing with the horse?" she asked in frank astonishment.