“I reckon I’ll try that air critter,” said he.
Smithers’ smile was as expansive as his shirt front. Two such fellows as this were a rare treat; usually every one was daunted by the first failure. This fellow was evidently a regular hayseed, too.
“Most charmed,” said the proprietor. “Step right up, I pray you. Really, sir——” There was something about his self-confident smile that “riled” our excitable Texan.
“Look a-yere!” he demanded, angrily, when he reached the ring. “You think I kain’t ride this hyar critter, don’t you? Hey?”
The whole crowd in that tent leaned forward excitedly; here was fun, a chance of a quarrel.
“Why, I’m sure I don’t know,” grinned the proprietor, suavely. “How should I know? Try it.”
“You got any money?” roared Texas.
“Why—er—yes. A little.”
Mr. Powers jammed his hands into one pocket and yanked out some bills.
“Go you one hundred I ride him!” he shouted.