"No. And they couldn't beat him if they had to do his work in the hills. About a week of the trails would kill a thoroughbred."
"Boyar is very conceited, aren't you, Boy?" And she patted the sleek arch of his neck.
"I don't blame him," said Collie, his eyes twinkling.
"Going all the way to town?" asked Louise.
"Yes. Brand wants some things from the store."
"I'm going to the station. We expect a telegram from some friends. Maybe they'll be there themselves. I hope not, though. They said they were coming to-morrow, but would telegraph if they started sooner. We would have to get Price's team and buckboard—and I'd be ashamed to ride behind his horses, especially with my—my friend from the East."
"Boyar and this here buckskin colt would make a pretty fair team," ventured Collie, smiling to himself.
"To drive? Heavens, Collie, no! They've neither of them been in harness."
"I was just imagining," said Collie.
"Of course!" exclaimed Louise, laughing. "I understand. Why, I must be late. There's the train for the north just leaving the station. I expected to be there in case the Marshalls did come to-day. But they said they'd telegraph."