"'What's sad about that?' I says. 'You ain't much over a hundred 'n' forty, at a guess.'
"'The trouble is not with my weight—it's my disposition,' he says. 'I have not ridden for ten years. In fact I never rode much. To tell you the truth—I'm afraid of a horse.'
"Say—I'd liked that young chap fine till then! I think he's handin' me a josh at first.
"'You're kiddin' me, ain't you?' I says.
"'No,' he says. 'I'm not kidding you. I've fought my fear of horses since I was old enough to think. Lately it has become necessary for me to ride, and I'm going to do it—it it kills me!'
"We were back to my joint by this time 'n' he looks at me 'n' laughs.
"'Cheer up!' he says. 'I'll think over what you told me and let you know. I go over to Philadelphia to-morrow to race in a "buzz-wagon," as you call it. I don't want you to think me entirely chicken-hearted—and I'll take you with me, if Brown can spare you.'
"The next day he shows up in the battle-ship.
"'Blister,' he says, 'I don't know just how far I'll be willing to go in the affair, but if you can get Rainbow, I'll buy him.'
"'Now you've said somethin',' I says. 'Head fur the nearest telegraph office 'n' I'll wire Peewee.'