“I advise you to be a little more respectful in tone,” said Mr. Howbridge in his suave, lawyer’s voice. “If we do any business at all it will be on this boy’s recommendation. He knows about mules. I do not. I shall hear what he and Hank have to say.”
“Well, it’s all foolish saying this mule was in a circus,” blustered the man. “I’ve had him over a year, and I want to sell him now because he hasn’t any mate. I can’t pull a canal boat with one mule.”
“Especially not a trick mule that never hauled a boat in his life,” put in Neale.
“Here! You quit that! What do you mean?” demanded the man in sullen tones.
“I mean just what I said,” declared Neale. “I believe this is a trick mule that used to be in my uncle Bill’s show—in Twomley and Sorber’s Herculean Circus and Menagerie, to be exact. Of course I may be mistaken, but if not I can easily prove what I say.”
“Huh! I’d like to see you do it!” sneered the man.
“All right, I will,” and Neale’s manner was confident. “I recognize this mule,” he went on to Mr. Howbridge, “by that mark on his off hind hoof,” and he pointed to a bulge on the mule’s foot. “But of course that may be on another mule, as well as on the one that was in my uncle’s circus. However, if I can make this mule do a trick I taught old Josh in the show, that ought to prove what I say, oughtn’t it?”
“I should think so,” agreed the lawyer.
“You can’t make this mule do any tricks,” sneered the tramp. “He’s a good mule for pulling canal boats, but he can’t do tricks.”
“Oh, can’t he?” remarked Neale. “Well, we’ll see. Come here, Josh!” he suddenly called.