"Let me see that sore again," said Gordon. He slipped the bridle and examined the place carefully. Then he looked hard at the horse, which stood with great docility, although he held his head proudly. He was a fine beast, glossy black in color, and had a magnificent tail.
"Make it eighty-five," said Gordon.
"Couldn't think of it."
"I don't know as I want the horse anyway," said Gordon.
"I'll call it eighty-seven and a half," said the little red-haired man.
Gordon stood still for a moment. Then he pulled out his wallet. "Eighty-six and call it square," he said.
"All right," said the red-haired man. "It's a-givin' of him away, but I'm so darned tired of trampin' the country with him, that I'll call it eighty-six, and it's the biggest bargain you ever got in your life in the way of horse flesh. I wouldn't let him go at that figure, but my wife's sick, and I want to get home."
The red-haired man carefully counted over the roll of bank-notes which Doctor Gordon gave him, although it seemed to James that he used some haste. He also thought that he was evidently anxious to be gone. He refused Gordon's offer of breakfast, saying that he had already had some at the hotel. Then he was gone, walking with uncommon speed for such a small man. Aaron, James, and Doctor Gordon stood contemplating the new purchase. James patted him. "He looks like a fine animal," he remarked. Aaron shifted his quid, and said with emphasis, "Want me to hitch up and bring that little red-haired cuss back?"
"Why, what for?" asked Doctor Gordon. "I guess I have made a good trade, Aaron."
"You mark my words, there's somethin' out," said Aaron dogmatically.