“Well, you’ve made a good bargain this time. You’ve bought a fine hoss.”
Connie wondered if she had heard correctly. But she could not doubt her own ears, and besides, she saw that the rancher was preparing to lead Silvertail away.
“Just a minute please,” she said, stepping forward. “Mr. Blakeman, why is Pop Bradshaw taking my horse?”
“Why, I bought him a few days ago,” answered the rancher before the foreman could reply.
“You bought Silvertail?” Connie echoed in amazement. “But he’s my horse. I’d not sell him to anyone.”
“Now be reasonable, Miss Connie,” interposed Blakeman. “We need money and Silvertail’s not much use as a cow pony. I thought the best thing to do would be to get rid of him.”
“You might have consulted me,” retorted Connie, striving to control her anger.
“I don’t aim to take your hoss if you feel thet way about it,” Pop Bradshaw said hastily. “It’s nothin’ to me one way or the other.”
“Thank you, Pop,” replied Connie gratefully. “I couldn’t possibly let Silvertail go. Mr. Blakeman quite overstepped his authority.”
The foreman’s dark eyes flashed angrily, but he made no comment until after the rancher had ridden away.