"With an even break in the luck, of course," interrupted the Kid. "You've got to have luck too."
"They didn't mention anything about luck when they took my money." Hopwood was positive on this point. "They told me it was a sure thing and I wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't thought it was.... You boys talk it over between you. I'm going to ask Mr. Curry if he wants to buy a horse. He can have him for half what he cost me."
Hopwood turned up his collar and departed; the two conspirators listened until his footsteps died away down the row of stables. "Will Curry split on us?" asked Little Calamity, anxiously.
"Not in a thousand years!" was the confident reply. "The old man is a sport in his way. It's a queer way, but he's all right at that. He plays his own string and lets you play yours. Hopwood will find out what Solomon says about buying strange horses, but the old man won't tip your hand or mine. Queer genius, Curry is.... Well, your sucker has lasted longer than I thought he would."
"And now he's getting onto himself," said Calamity mournfully.
"He's not. He's getting cold feet."
"To-morrow is the last crack we'll get at him.... Can this beagle run in the mud?"
"How do I know? I was only stringing him."
Little Calamity sighed and the Kid rose to take his departure.
"Wait a minute!" said the other. "Don't go yet. Maybe this horse will do better in the mud. You don't know and I don't know, but he might."