About this the horse was of another opinion. He reared magnificently and struck out with his forefeet.
"I want to ride that horse, Ted."
We compromised by handing the man the lump of sugar to be transferred to the horse. The horse sniffed it disdainfully and spat it out.
"I guess he ain't used to no dainties, lady," the man apologized.
The train whistled, and we were off again. The man swung into his saddle, the horse bolting with him across the desert. We saw him rein him in and turn in his saddle to wave his hat at the train. Helen fluttered her handkerchief out the window.
"Couldn't we take a Western pony back with us, Ted? I think we can almost afford it."
"If you want one, dear."
"I'd make a sensation on a horse like that at a meet of the Old Berkeley East hounds."
"I think his carelessness with his forefeet would bar him out," I replied.