On the way over to the mainland, the Captain said: “I’ve got a young colt that needs a brave broncho buster to ride him.”
“Oh, Captain! let me try and ride it, will you?” cried Paul.
“I can ride better’n Paul, Captain!” urged Dudley.
“No you can’t, neither! Ah now, Captain, please let me ride her?”
“Well, she’s young and gentle all right, but full of fire—like most young things. So I don’t see any objection to both of you boys riding her if you’re careful.”
“And Paul, we’ll draw lots for the first ride!”
“The colt is a great pet and she may show a little fear of you two Indians at first, but she’ll get used to you if you give her some sugar,” advised the Captain.
It was a scant mile’s walk from the Cove to the farm but a friendly neighbour’s “jigger” was found going their way, and the three had a lift as far as the cross-roads.
“Did you ever see such a funny axle—it’s got a broken back!” exclaimed Paul, curiously.
“It looks to me more like a crankshaft,” said Dudley.