“No, he won’t,” replied Phil. “I know him better now, and I won’t let him get a start on me, as he did yesterday. Uncle left especial directions that I was to take good care of Jouncer, and one way to take care of him is to ride him and not let him get fat and lazy.”
“No danger of his gettin’ fat,” said Joel, “with your style of ridin’.”
“Joel,” said Phil, his face flushing a little, “I don’t want to talk any more about this. I am going to ride Jouncer this morning, and if you don’t choose to saddle him I’ll do it myself.”
“Oh, you’re master,” said Joel, “and if you say so the thing has got to be done, I s’pose; and if the horse is rode to death, that’s your lookout; but I guess I’m responsible for the saddlin’ and bridlin’ and feedin’, ain’t I?”
“Certainly,” said Phil.
“Then I’ll attend to them things myself,” remarked Joel, as he went into the stable.
As Philip rode away on Jouncer, he could not make up his mind about Joel. It was true, he had done what he was told to do this time, but whether or not he would continue to obey was a matter of doubt.
But, having been successful in his first skirmish, Philip concluded to be satisfied for the present. Joel was not much of a person, after all.
“Susan,” said Chap, about fifteen minutes after Philip had ridden away, “Phil said I might have Old Bruden while he was gone. I’ve been up to the gun-room, but it isn’t there. Do you know where it is?”
“Didn’t he tell you where it was?” asked Susan, turning around and facing him squarely.