“That’s a nice thoughtful fellow. He has sent out some one to find our luggage in the broken-down trap and bring it in. I told him how glad you’d be.”
“Should I go back and thank him?”
“I don’t think it’s necessary, you can do that when we get back this evening. We are going for a ride now—and the sooner we’re off the better.” I went to the stable where my horse was, thinking how to get over the rather awkward difficulty of securing a second animal.
I did not intend to return to Pulta; and if I hired the horse I should not be able to return it. To buy it might create suspicion, as a man does not purchase a horse merely to go for a ride—even in that horse-bartering region; and I had no wish to turn horse-thief.
I put a bold face on the matter and went into the stable whistling. An ostler was grooming my horse and the owner of the place looking on.
“That’s a nice looking animal of yours,” he said.
“Yes; and as good as he looks.”
“No doubt. Andreas knows a good horse.”
“Andreas? Who’s he?”
“At Bratinsk. Where you got him, I suppose.”