"I am glad you had nothing to do with it," she concluded, walking slowly away toward the kitchen end of the house. "And I hope your hand will soon be well."
"That's right," said Long Bill. "I didn't have nothin' to do with it. No Gatlin' guns in mine, Miss!"
CHAPTER X
"We'll beat any cow-pony workin' on the round-up," declared the soft-voiced twin as he coiled up the stake-rope and tied it on to his saddle.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. School had been dismissed and the dozen children of various sizes were straggling homeward. Hope stood beside her horse patiently waiting for the twins to go, but they seemed in no particular hurry. She listened absent-mindedly to the boys' conversation.
"An' another thing about this pony o' mine, he'll never slack up on a rope," continued Dan. "Once you've got a rope on a steer he'll never budge till the cinch busts off the saddle. He'll just sit right back on his haunches an' pull. Yes, sir; you'd think he knew just as much as a man!"
Dave grunted. "He's all right 'nough, only he'll bust the bridle if you tie him, an' he won't stand without bein' tied. He'll buck if he's cinched too tight or gets too much to eat, an' he ain't fit for a lady to ride, nohow. He's an Indian pinto to boot, a regular fool calico pony! Now my horse is an all 'round good one, an' so gentle any lady can ride him, just like any sensible horse ought to be."
"Yes, that's all he's good for, is to stand 'round an' look pretty, like some o' these here bloods—an' them pretty soldiers over to the post. I notice when there's any real work to be done, Mr. Dude ain't in it. Oh, he can stand 'round an' look pretty all right, but the pinto's the best all 'round, an's got the most sense!"
Their discussion seemed at an end, for the soft-voiced twin having fastened the rope securely, walked around to the other side of his pinto and had just turned the stirrup toward him, preliminary to mounting, when the other boy grasped him roughly by the collar, throwing him backward to the ground.