“In a few minutes?” Hi said. “I could wait a few minutes.”
“He not be here in a few minutes. I make mistake, see. This yellow horse the only horse. He go like the wind.”
“With those feet?”
“I tell you about those feet. The rains make it very slippy. With those feet he never, never fail: any kind of mud, any kind of stick, he stand fast.”
“I’ll bet he will stand fast,” Hi said. “Is there no other horse?”
“No other horse anywhere, except the mare. And the man who owns the mare, he very proud man; he not let anyone ride the mare.”
“Well, all right, then,” Hi said, “I suppose I must take the pony. Let me see the saddle and bridle.”
The old woman had hobbled to the stable, the German had gone back to his work.
“I like to see the colour of your money,” the old woman said. “I not know you, see, so you make me a little present.”
Hi paid over the money, which mother and son (if that was, as he supposed, the relationship between the pair) watched with eyes that burned with voracity. The old woman bit the sovereign, to test its goodness, as though she were going to eat it.