Various were the suggestions thrown out, gratis, to DeRue Hannington’s query, for all of them knew that he was crazy over horseflesh in general and particularly over the pure white thoroughbred he had got from Rattlesnake Dalton the day he closed the deal and became owner of the good-for-nothing Lost Durkin Gold Mine.
Whether or not DeRue Hannington considered that he had been defrauded in the matter of the mine still remained for him to test out, but the white horse was certainly a beauty, and her owner was never so happy as when careering down Main Street or over the ranges astride of her.
“By gad!––lynching is not half severe enough,” fumed the Englishman. “You chaps are all jolly fond of horses. That is why I dropped in. It is an out and out beastly shame. The scoundrel should be horse-whipped and run out of town.”
“Say, sonny!––why don’t you tell us what’n-the-hell’s the matter with your blinkin’ hoss, ’stead o’ jumpin’ up and down like a chimpanzee, and makin’ us dizzy watchin’ yer?” asked a hardened old bar-lounger. “Stand still and let me lean my eyes up against somethin’ steady for a minute.”
This brought DeRue Hannington to himself.
“Come out here, gentlemen, and see for yourselves!” he invited. “Everybody come and have a look. I have her outside. A beastly, dirty, rotten shame;––that’s what I call it, and if there is any bally justice in this Valley, I am going to see it jolly-well performed; by George, I am!”
The idly curious crowd gathered to the doorway after Hannington. In a few seconds thereafter, the wildest shouts of laughter and a medley of caustic remarks caused Phil to get up to see what it all was about.
At the door, he looked over the heads of those on the 236 lower steps of the veranda, and there on the sidewalk stood the dejected Hannington holding the bridle of what might have been a huge zebra gone wild on the colour scheme, or an advertisement for a barber’s shop.
It was evidently DeRue Hannington’s white thoroughbred, but white no longer. Phil went out to make a closer inspection.
What a sight she presented! She had been painted from head to hoofs in broad stripes of red, white and blue. The white was her own natural colour, but the red and blue were a gaudy, cheap paint still partly wet. Nevertheless, the work was the work of an artist. The body was done in graceful, sweeping lines, while the legs were circled red, white and blue alternately down to each hoof. Even the animal’s head was emblazoned in the most fantastic manner.