“I know where his farm is,” said Jim. “He has all those big fat work horses.” Any horse that didn’t resemble Ticktock in size and build was an object of contempt to Jim.
“Well, those big fat horses are very valuable Percherons. Hernstadt is one of the finest breeders in the Middle West. Anyhow, his prize mare got out of the pasture somehow and is lost.”
“Work horses must be dumb,” said Jim with conviction. “You could never lose Ticktock.”
“Young man, will you quit bragging about that mustang long enough to listen to what I am telling you?”
“I’m sorry,” said Jim, who really wasn’t at all.
“This mare strayed away two days ago, and Hernstadt has looked all over for her. Now he is advertising, offering a reward of twenty-five dollars for her return.”
“Twenty-five dollars!” exclaimed Jim. “How I’d like to find that horse!”
“This is scarcely ethical,” said Arnold. “The paper isn’t delivered until tomorrow; so I’m giving you a twenty-four-hour advantage over my other subscribers.”
“I wouldn’t give you away for anything. When I find the horse, I’ll wait until the paper is out before I take it back to Mr. Hernstadt.”
“Rather confident, aren’t you?” asked Arnold laughing.