"You're right up to the mark this morning, Dick," said the animal's master. "We'll finish up with a little subtraction. If we take seven from fourteen, how many will be left?"
Seven times Dick pawed the ground.
"There you are, Mr. Bearover," nodded Merriwell. "Are you satisfied that even horses have brains?"
"I'm satisfied that you've trained that critter to do a few tricks," was the answer. "You must think I'm purty dull witted. Why, you begun with an example that made the horse paw the ground four times. Your next question required five strokes of the critter's foot. Then came six, and you followed it up with seven. Come, come, Mr. Merriwell, you're not dealing with chumps. I've seen horses that could do them little things, but it's no sign of brains. You're on the critter's back. By training it, you could git it so it would paw the ground every time you pressed your knee against its shoulder. Git off the horse and stand away; then let's see what it will do. Then let's see you make it do sums in addition, subtraction, and so forth."
"Very well," said Merry, as he dismounted, dropping the bridle rein on Dick's neck. "We'll see what he'll do in that manner."
He stroked the horse's muzzle, and the animal placed its head on his shoulder.
"Dick," said Frank, "this doubting Thomas thinks it's all trickery. He can't believe that you're a finished mathematician. We must convince him, Dick. Now be careful and give your answers correctly. Stand where you are, sir."
Frank retreated fully ten feet. With his hands on his hips and a smile on his face, he said:
"We'll take a simpler sum in addition, Dick. You understand this is addition, old boy. Two and one make how many?"
The horse lifted his foot and struck the ground three times.