It was such a relief to express my opinion to the man
just at that time, too, when I was grieving so for the horse. I saw at
once that he was a bronco breaker from his style of dress. He had on
boots of very fine leather with enormously high heels, and strapped to
them were large, sharp-pointed Mexican spurs. His trousers were of
leather and very broad at the bottom, and all down the front and
outside was some kind of gray fur--"chaps" this article of dress is
called--and in one hand he held a closely plaited, stinging black
"quirt." He wore a plaid shirt and cotton handkerchief around his
neck. That describes the man who rode Rollo first--and no wonder the
spirited, high-strung colt was suspicious of saddles, men, and things.
I watched the man as he rode away. His horse was going at a furious
gallop, with ears turned back, as if expecting whip or spur any
instant, and the man sat far over on one side, that leg quite straight
as though he was standing in the long stirrup, and the other was
resting far up on the saddle--which was of the heavy Mexican make,
with enormous flaps, and high, round pommel in front. I am most
thankful that Rollo has gone beyond that man's reach, as everything
about him told of cruelty to horses.
Yet, Mrs. Ames seemed such a cold woman--so incapable of understanding
or appreciating the affection of a dumb animal.
Pages:
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396