“Yes, sir, I think so. He only went out to the store. He ought to be home now.”
“Then I think I will wait. I was here once before this morning. I was talking with him about buying one of his horses. If you can spare the time, I would like to have you go with me to the pasture, and I will take another look at the one I saw this morning.”
“Certainly, sir,” said Herbert, driving the ax into the block upon which he had been splitting, prepared to accompany Mr. Richmond to the pasture.
They reached the bars dividing the pasture from the next field. Spitfire was cropping the grass just on the other side.
“There,” said the stranger, pointing him out, “that is the horse I was looking at.”
“THAT ONE!” repeated Herbert, in a tone of surprise.
“Yes, he is a fine-looking animal.”
“Ye-es,” said Herbert, hesitatingly.
“However, I don't so much care about that, as for his being gentle. I want him for a family horse, such as my wife may drive, without fear, while I am away.”
“Did Mr. Holden say he's gentle?” asked Herbert.