“Little while ago. I kind of hate to send this pony back, though. Look at the chest on him, won’t you!”
“Yea, an’ did you take a look at his teeth? Made fer bitin’, they are. Better send him back than have him take a chunk out of somebody.”
“Think he’d do that?” Roy asked.
“Sure do! If you don’t believe it, just you fork him—only leave word what kind of flowers you want.”
“Well, now, I don’t know about that,” Teddy said slowly. He walked over to where the horse stood, rubbing against the bars of the corral, and peered into his eyes. “He doesn’t look so bad. Nick, I’d like to take a crack at him. Lend a hand with this cinch, will you?”
“Listen, Teddy,” Nick remonstrated. “Don’t do nothin’ foolish. Even if he don’t bite, he’s a buckin’ fool. I’m certain sure of that. Why take a chance?”
“Yes, Teddy, if I were you I’d wait until dad comes back,” Roy added. “He may want to return the pony. Don’t ride him.”
Teddy did not answer for a moment. Then he took a coin from his pocket.
“Heads I do, tails I don’t,” he said briefly. “Dad won’t want to send the bronc back without knowing what he’s good for. The only way to find out, so far as I can see, is to ride him. Here she goes.”
The boy spun the coin in the air. As it landed, both Nick and Roy bent over it eagerly.