“Now,” said John, who is very human, “we’ll go help Reb spend that money.”
As we jostled amid the outgoing crowd, several cowboys came alongside the grandstand rail, and Big John drew me aside to have speech with them. One rider led a spare horse and when he passed a man on foot, the latter hailed him:
“Say, Ed, give me a lift to the hotel?”
“Sure,” answered Ed, proffering the reins.
The man gathered them up, his hands fluttering as if with palsy, and paused with his foot raised toward the stirrup.
“He won’t pitch nor nothing, Ed?” came the quavered inquiry. “You’re shore he’s gentle?”
“Gentler’n a dog,” returned Ed, greatly surprised.
“You ain’t fooling me, now, are you, Ed?” continued the man on the ground. “He looks kind of mean.”
“Give him to me!” Ed exploded. “You kin walk.”
From where we stood, only the man’s back was visible. “Who is that fellow?” I asked.