"So long as you keep to my line of business," replied he.
The races came next. Kintuck took first money on the straightaway dash, but lost on the long race around the pole. It nearly broke his heart, but he came in second to Denver Dan's sorrel twice in succession.
Mose patted the old horse and said: "Never mind, old boy, you pulled in forty dollars more for me."
Reynolds had tears in his eyes as he came up.
"The old hoss cain't compete on the long stretches. He's like a middle-aged man—all right for a short dash—but the youngsters have the best wind—they get him on the mile course."
In the trained pony contest the old horse redeemed himself. He knelt at command, laid out flat while Mose crouched behind, and at the word "Up!" sprang to his feet and waited—then with his master clinging to his mane he ran in a circle or turned to right or left at signal. All the tricks which the cavalry had taught their horses, Mose, in years on the trail, had taught Kintuck. He galloped on three legs and waltzed like a circus horse. He seemed to know exactly what his master said to him.
A man with a big red beard came up to Mose as he rode off the track and said:
"What'll you take for that horse?"
Mose gave him a savage glance. "He ain't for sale."
The broncho-busting contest Mose declined.