"And so," the little girl went on, "I fought I'd come to-day."
The cattleman rubbed his chin. "I see; I see," he said.
"I couldn't get here sooner," she explained, "'cause I didn't ride."
"Oh, ye didn't?" he said. Then, noting the bridle and bag, "What ye got them fer?" he asked.
"I didn't want to use yours," she replied.
"Mine?" The cattleman was puzzled.
"Yes: I brought this," she went on, holding up the bag, "to catch him wiv; and this," holding up the bridle, "to take him home wiv."
"Him?" questioned the cattleman, more puzzled than ever.
The little girl saw that she would have to make herself more clear. "Why, yes," she said. "You promised me anyfing I wanted if I'd get well; now I'm well, so I've come to—to—get Sultan."
The cattleman sat down, amazement and consternation succeeding each other on his face. Until now he had forgotten the compact made with her, and which he was in honor bound to keep. Recalling it, he realized that it meant the loss of his best horse.