“Whatbusinesshavetheygotoffthereservation，I’dliketoknow，“saidtheranchman_“BowLeg，oranywhere？“
“Oh，it’sjustahunt，andakindofvisitin’theirfriendsontheSouthReservation，“Shortyexplained。“Squawsalongandall。“
“Well，ifthefolksatWashingtondon’tkeepsquawsandallwheretheybelong，“saidBalaam，inarage，“thefolksinWyomingTerritory’illdoalittlejobthatwaythemselves。“
“There’sapetitionout，“saidShorty。“Paper’sgoin’Eastwithalotofnamestoit。Buttheyain’tnoharm，themIndiansain’t。“
“Noharm？“raspedoutBalaam。“WasitwhitemendruvofftheO。
C。yearlings？“
Balaam’sEasterngrammarwassometimesatthemercyofhisWesternfeelings。ThethoughtoftheperennialstultificationofIndianaffairsatWashington，whetherbypoliticianorphilanthropist，wasalwayssuretoarousehim。Hewalkedimpatientlyaboutwhilehespoke，andhaltedimpatientlyatthewindow。Outintheworldtheuncloudeddaywasshining，andBalaam’seyetravelledacrosstheplainstowhereablueline，faintandpale，layalongtheendofthevastyellowdistance。
ThatwasthebeginningoftheBowLegMountains。Somewhereoverthereweretheredmen，ranginginunfrequenteddepthsofrockandpine——theirforbiddenground。
Dinnerwasready，andtheysatdown。
“AndIsuppose，“Balaamcontinued，stillhotonthesubject，“you’dclaimIndiansobjecttokillingawhitemanwhentheyrunontohimgoodandfarfromhumanhelp？ThesepeaceableIndiansarejusttheworstinthebusiness。“
“That’sso，“assentedtheeasy-opinionedShorty，exactlyasifhehadalwaysmaintainedthisview。“ChapstartedforSunkCreekthreeweeksago。Trapperhewas；oldlike，witharedshirt。Oneofhishorsescomeintotheround-upToosday。Manain’tbeenheardfrom。“Heateinsilenceforawhile，evidentlybroodinginhischildlikemind。Thenhesaid，querulously，“I’dsoonertrustoneofthemIndiansthanIwouldTrampas。“
Balaamslantedhisfatbulletheadfartooneside，andlayinghisspoondown(hehadopenedsomecannedgrapes)laughedsteadilyathisguestwithaharshrelishofirony。
Theguestateagrape，andperceivinghewasseenthrough，smiledbackrathermiserably。
“Say，Shorty，“saidBalaam，hisheadstillslantedover，“what’sthefiguresofyourbankbalancejustnow？“
“Iain’tusin’banks，“murmuredtheyouth。
BalaamputsomemoregrapesonShorty’splate，anddrawingacigarfromhiswaistcoat，sentitrollingtohisguest。
“Matchesarebehindyou，“headded。HegaveacigartotheVirginianasanafterthought，buttohisdisgust，theSouthernerputitinhispocketandlightedapipe。
Balaamaccompaniedhisguest，Shorty，whenhewenttothepasturetosaddleupanddepart。“Gotarope？“heaskedtheguest，astheylifteddownthebars。
“Don’tneedtoropehim。IcanwalkrightuptoPedro。Youstayback。“
Hidinghisbridlebehindhim，Shortywalkedtotheriver-bank，wherethe-ponywasswitchinghislongtailintheshade；andspeakingpersuasivelytohim，hecamenearer，tillhelaidhishandonPedro’sduskymane，whichwasmanyshadesdarkerthanhishide。Heturnedexpectantly，andhismastercameuptohisexpectationswithapieceofbread。
“Eatsthat，doeshe？“saidBalaam，overthebars。
“Likesthesalt，“saidShorty。“Now，n-n-ow，here！Yu’don’tguessyu’llbebridled，don’tyou？Openyourteeth！Yu’dliketoplayyu’wasnobody’shorseandliveprivate？Ormaybeyu’dpreferownin’asaloon？“
Pedroevidentlyenjoyedthistalk，andthedodginghemadeaboutthebit。Oncefairlyinhismouth，heacceptedtheinevitable，andfollowedShortytothebars。ThenShortyturnedandextendedhishand。
“Shake！“hesaidtohispony，wholiftedhisforefootquietlyandputitinhismaster’shand。Thenthemastertickledhisnose，andhewrinkleditandflattenedhisears，pretendingtobite。
Hisfaceworeanexpressionofknowingrelishoverthisperformance。“Nowtheotherhoof，“saidShorty；andthehorseandmastershookhandswiththeirleft。“Ilearnedhimthat，“saidthecowboy，withprideandaffection。“Say，Pede，“hecontinued，inPedro’sear，“ain’tyu’thebestlittlehorseinthecountry？
What？Here，now！Keepoutofthat，youdead-beat！Thereain’tnomorebread。“Hepinchedthepony’snose，onequarterofwhichwaswedgedintohispocket。
“Quitealady’slittlepet！“saidBalaam，withtheraspinhisvoice。“Pitythisisn’tNewYork，now，wherethere’sabigmarketforharmlesshorses。Gee-gees，thechildrencallthem。“
“Heain’tnogee-gee，“saidShorty，offended。“He’llbeatanycow-ponyworkin’you’vegot。Yu’canturnhimonahalf-dollar。
Don’tneedtotouchthereins。Hang’emononefingerandswingyourbody，andhe’llturn。“
Balaamknewthis，andheknewthattheponywasonlyafour-year-old。“Well，“hesaid，“Drybone’shadnocircusthisseason。Maybethey’dbuyticketstoseePedro。He’sgoodforthat，anyway。
Shortybecamegloomy。TheVirginianwasgrimlysmoking。Herewassomethingelsegoingonnottohistaste，butnoneofhisbusiness。
“Tryacircus，“persistedBalaam。“Alteryourplansforspendingcashintown，andmakealittlemoneyinstead。“
Shortyhavingnoplanstoalterandnocashtospend，grewstillmoregloomy。
“What’llyoutakeforthatpony？“saidBalaam。
Shortyspokeupinstantly。“Ahundreddollarscouldn’tbuythatpieceofstalemudoffhisback，“heasserted，lookingoffintotheskygrandiosely。
ButBalaamlookedatShorty，“Youkeepthemud，“hesaid，“andI’llgiveyouthirtydollarsforthehorse。“
Shortydidalittleprofessionallaughing，andbegantowalktowardhissaddle。
“Giveyouthirtydollars，“repeatedBalaam，pickingastoneupandslingingitintotheriver。
“Howfardoyu’callittoDrybone？“Shortyremarked，stoopingtoinvestigatethebucking-straponhissaddle——asuperfluousperformance，forPedroneverbucked。
“Youwon’thavetowalk，“saidBalaam。“Stayallnight，andI’llsendyouovercomfortablyinthemorning，whenthewagongoesforthemail。“
“Walk？“Shortyretorted。“Drybone’stwenty-fivemiles。Pedro’llputmethereinthreehoursandnotknowhedoneit。“Heliftedthesaddleonthehorse’sback。“Come，Pedro，“saidhe。
“Come，Pedro！“mockedBalaamTherefollowedalittlesilence。
“No，sir，“mumbledShorty，withhisheadunderPedro’sbelly，busilycinching。“Ahundreddollarsisbottomfigures。“
Balaam，inhisturn，nowdulyperformedsomeprofessionallaughing，whichwasnotedbyShortyunderthehorse’sbelly。HestoodupandsquaredroundonBalaam。“Well，then，“hesaid，what’llyugiveforhim？“
“Thirtydollars，“saidBalaam，lookingfaroffintothesky，asShortyhadlooked。“Oh，come，now，“expostulatedShorty。
ItwashewhonowdidthefeelingforanofferandthiswaswhatBalaamlikedtosee。“Whyyes，“hesaid，“thirty，“andlookedsurprisedthatheshouldhavetomentionthesumsooften。
“Ithoughtyu’dquitthemfirstfigures，“saidthecow-puncher，“foryu’canseeIain’tgoin’tolookatem。
Balaamclimbedonthefenceandsatthere“I’mnotcryingforyourPedro，“heobserveddispassionately。“Onlyitstruckmeyouweredeadbroke，andwantedtoraisecashandkeepyourselfgoingtillyouhuntedupajobandcouldbuyhimback。“Hehookedhisrightthumbinsidehiswaistcoatpocket。“ButI’mnotcryin’forhim，“herepeated。“He’dstayrighthere，ofcourse。Iwouldn’tpartwithhim。Whydoeshestandthatway？Hello！“Balaamsuddenlystraightenedhimself，likeamanwhohasmadeadiscovery。
“Hello，what？“saidShorty，onthedefensive。
BalaamwasstaringatPedrowithajudicialfrown。Thenhestuckoutafingeratthehorse，keepingthethumbhookedinhispocket。SomeagreagesturewasfeltbytheruffledShortytobenojustwaytopointatPedro。“What’sthematterwiththatforelegthere？“saidBalaam。
“Which？Nothin’sthematterwithit！“snappedShorty。
Balaamclimbeddownfromhisfenceandcameoverwithelaboratedeliberation。Hepassedhishandupanddowntheoffforeleg。
Thenhespitslenderly。“Mm！“hesaidthoughtfully；andadded，withashadeofsadness，“that’salwaystobeexpectedwhenthey’reworkedtooyoung。“
Shortyslidhishandslowlyoverthedisputedleg。“What’stobeexpected？“heinquired——“thatthey’lleathearty？Well，hedoes。“
AtthisretorttheVirginianpermittedhimselftolaughinaudiblesympathy。
“Sprung，“continuedBalaam，withasigh。“Whirlingroundshortwhenhisbonesweresoftdidthat。Yes。“
“Sprung！“Shortysaid，withabarkofindignation。“Comeon，Pede；youandme’llspringfortown。“
Hecaughtthehornofthesaddle，andasheswungintoplacethehorserushedawaywithhim。“O-ee！yoi-yup，yup，yup！“sangShorty，intheshrillcowdialect。HemadePedroplayanexhibitiongameofspeed，bringinghimroundclosetoBalaaminawidecircle，andthenhevanishedindustdowntheleft-banktrail。
Balaamlookedafterhimandlaughedharshly。Hehadseentroutdashaboutlikethatwhenthehookintheirjawfirstsurprisedthem。HeknewShortywouldshowtheponyoff，andheknewShorty’sloveforPedrowasnotequaltohisneedofmoney。Hecalledtooneofhismen，askedsomethingaboutthedamatthemouthofthecanyon，wherethemainirrigationditchbegan，madearemarkabouttheprolongeddrought，andthenwalkedtohisdining-roomdoor，where，asheexpected，Shortymethim。
“Say，“saidtheyouth，“doyouconsiderthat’sanywaytotalkaboutagoodhorse？“
“Anydudecouldseetheleg’ssprung，“saidBalaam。ButhelookedatPedro’sshoulder，whichwaswelllaidback；andheadmiredhispoints，darkincontrastwiththebuckskin，andalsothewidthbetweentheeyes。
“Nowyouknow，“whinedShorty，“thatitain’tsprunganymorethanyourleg’scork。Ifyoumeantherightlegain’tplumbstraight，Icantellyouhewasbornso。Thatdon’tmakenodifference，foritain’tweak。Tryhimonced。Justassoundandstrongasiron。Neverstumbles。Andhedon’tnevergotojumpin’
withyu’。He’skindandhe’ssmart。“Andthemasterpettedhispony，wholiftedahoofforanotherhandshake。
OfcourseBalaamhadneverthoughtthelegwassprung，andhenowtookonanunprejudicedairofwantingtobelieveShorty’sstatementsifheonlycould。
“Maybethere’stwoyears’workleftinthatleg，“henowobserved。
“Bettergiveyourhawssaway，Shorty，“saidtheVirginian。
“Isthisyourdeal，myfriend？“inquiredBalaam。AndheslantedhisbulletheadattheVirginian。
“Givehimaway，Shorty，“drawledtheSoutherner。“Hislaigisbusted。Mr。Balaamsaysso。“
Balaam’sfacegrewevilwithbaffledfury。ButtheVirginianwasgravelyconsideringPedro。He，too，wasnotpleased。Buthecouldnotinterfere。Alreadyhehadoversteppedthecodeinthesematters。Hewouldhavedearlyliked——forreasonsgoodandbad，spiteandmercymingled——tohavespoiledBalaam’smarket，tohaveofferedareasonableorevenanunreasonablepriceforPedro，andtakenpossessionofthehorsehimself。Butthismightnotbe。Inbets，incardgames，inallhorsetransactionsandothermattersofsimilarbusiness，amanmusttakecareofhimself，andwiseronlookersmustsuppresstheirwisdomandholdtheirpeace。
ThateveningShortyagainhadacigar。HehadpartedwithPedroforfortydollars，astripedMexicanblanket，andapairofspurs。Undressingoverinthebunkhouse，hesaidtotheVirginian，“I’llsurebuyPedrobackoffhimjustassoonaseverIrustlesomecash。“TheVirginiangrunted。HewasthinkingheshouldhavetotravelhardtogetthehorsestotheJudgebythe30th；andbelowthatthoughtlayhisachingdisappointmentandhislongingforBearCreek。
IntheearlydawnShortysatupamonghisblanketsonthefloorofthebunkhouseandsawthevarioussleeperscoiledorsprawledintheirbeds；theirbreathinghadnotyetgrownrestlessatthenearingofday。Hesteppedtothedoorcarefully，andsawthecrowdingblackbirdsbegintheirwalkandchatterinthemudofthelitteredandtroddencorrals。Frombeyondamongthecottonwoods，camecontinuallythesmoothunemphaticsoundofthedovesansweringeachotherinvisibly；andagainsttheemptyridgeoftheriver-blufflaythemoon，nolongershining，fortherewasestablishedanewlightthroughthesky。Pedrostoodinthepastureclosetothebars。Thecowboyslowlyclosedthedoorbehindhim，andsittingdownonthestep，drewhismoneyoutandidlyhandledit，takingnocomfortjustthenfromitspossession。
Thenheputitback，andafterdraggingonhisboots，crossedtothepasture，andheldalasttalkwithhispony，brushingthecakesofmudfromhishidewherehehadrolled，andpassingalingeringhandoverhismane。Asthesoundsofthemorningcameincreasinglyfromtreeandplain，Shortyglancedbacktoseethatnoonewasyetoutofthecabin，andthenputhisarmsroundthehorse’sneck，layinghisheadagainsthim。Foramomentthecowboy’sinsignificantfacewasexaltedbytheemotionhewouldneverhaveletotherssee。Hehuggedtightthisanimal，whowasdearertohisheartthananybodyintheworld。
