“Where is Brom Bones?” she demanded of the still drowsy Apgarth as she caught him crossing the yard from the milk house.
“The colt? He’s up in the back pasture, just around the knob of the mountain. What was you calc’latin’ to do with him, Miss?”
“I want to use him,” said Ruth. “May I?”
“Use him? Certainly, if you want to. But, say, Miss, that colt ain’t been driv’ since the Spring’s work. An’ he’s so fat an’ silky he’s liable to act foolish.”
“I’m going to ride him,” said Ruth briefly, as she stepped to the horse barn door for a bridle.
“Now, say, Miss,” the man opposed feebly, “you could take the brown pony just as well; I 85 don’t need her a bit. And I tell you that colt is just a lun-at-ic, when he’s been idle so long.”
“Thank you,” said Ruth, as she started up the hill. “But I think I’ll find work enough to satisfy even Brom Bones to-day.”
The big black colt followed her peaceably down the mountain, and stood champing at the door while she went in to get something to eat. When she brought out a shining new side saddle he looked suspiciously at the strange thing, but he made no serious objection as she fastened it on. Ruth herself, when she had buckled it tight, stood looking doubtfully at it. A side saddle was as new to her as it was to the horse. She had bought it on her way home the other day, as a concession to the fact that she was now a young lady who could no longer go stampeding over the hills on a bare-backed horse.
She mounted easily, but Brom Bones, seeming to know in the way of his kind that she was uneasy and uncomfortable, began at once to act badly. His intention seemed to be to walk into the open well on his hind feet. The girl caught a short hold on her lines and cut him sharply across the ear. He wheeled on two feet and bolted for the hill, clearing the woodshed by mere inches.
The path led straight up to the top of the slope. Ruth did not try to hold him. The sooner he ran the conceit out of himself, she thought, the better.