"I don't mean to buy a horse—jest hire one, from the livery. I was thinkin' of gettin' out on the dry-spot myself. I'm plumb sick of town."
"You would have to teach me."
"Shucks! There's nothin' to learn. All you got to do is to fork your cayuse and ride. I'd sure be glad to go with you."
"That's nice of you. Well, say to-morrow afternoon, then. But what about horses?"
"We got a session to-morrow. What's the matter with this afternoon? The sun's shinin', and there ain't much wind, and I can smell the ole desert, a-sizzlin'. Come on!"
They were in Forbes's room. The Easterner laid his book aside and glanced down at his shoes. "I haven't a riding-costume."
"Well, you can get one for a dollar and four-bits—copper-riveted, and sure easy and comfortable. I'll lend you a pair of boots."
"All right. I'll try it once, at least."
Forbes felt rather conspicuous in the stiff new overalls, rolled up at the bottom, over Pete's tight high-heeled boots, but nobody paid any attention to him as he stumped along beside Pete, on the way to the livery.
Pete chose the horses, and a saddle for Forbes, to whom he gave a few brief pointers anent the art of swinging up and dismounting. They set out and headed for the open. Forbes was at first nervous; but as nothing happened, he forgot his nervousness and gave himself to gazing at the great sun-swept spaces until the horses broke into a trot, when he turned his entire attention to the saddle-horn, clinging to it affectionately with his free hand.