The girl led the way into the stable, and Heine Schultz, temporary wrangler, showed Hiram ten immense black horses, not one of them under sixteen hundred pounds.
"Get 'em out," ordered Jo.
Hiram went to work immediately, with a briskness that caused Heine to wink at Jo, he threw on the heavy harness and led forth the big-footed teams. He did not ask which were the leaders or the wheelers, for this was indicated by the nature of their respective harness and bridles. Heine noted this and winked again. Hiram was told, when he asked, the names of the ten, and pointers and swing teams were indicated. In a period of time utterly bewildering to Mr. Tweet the man from Wild-cat Hill had his ten black beauties strung out in twos before one of the wagons, and was speaking to Jerkline Jo.
"I see you ride in the wagons," he observed. "I always rode the nigh wheeler hoss, ma'am."
"You may do so if you choose. We've saddles."
"Your way suits me," Hiram returned. "It's easier work, I reckon."
The girl climbed into the wagon with Hiram. Heine Schultz did likewise. Mr. Tweet, being a gregarious person, did not like to be left alone, so followed the others' example.
"Which way, ma'am?" asked the new skinner.
Jo pointed. "Up that street, and turn the corner to your left," she directed.
The wagon was about half loaded with the blacksmith's outfit. To add to this the horse wrangler set the heavy brakes.