“Nonsense!” ejaculated Agnes, flushing.
“Now you know that is ridiculous,” said Ruth, inclined to be exasperated with the boy as much as she had been with the pony.
“No. It is a fact,” said the boy, decidedly.
“Now, you know that isn’t so, Neale O’Neil!” cried Agnes.
“I assure you it is. Anyway, they say if you tell it—what you say—to anybody else, the horse will balk again right away. It’s a secret between him and the person——”
“I never heard such a ridiculous thing in all my life,” gasped Mrs. Heard.
“I think you are not very polite, Neale,” said Ruth, quite sternly.
“Now see here!” cried the badgered boy, getting rather vexed himself. “I tell you I can’t tell you——”
“You’re talking anything but English,” complained Agnes.
“Well, maybe I didn’t talk English into the pony’s ear,” retorted Neale, grinning suddenly again. “Anyway, the old Gyp who taught me that trick told me I must never say the words aloud, or to anybody who would not make proper use of the magic formula.”