"Wait a minute, Mr. Patches," he said.
The stranger faced him.
"Can you ride that horse?" asked the Dean, pointedly.
"I'm going to," returned Patches. "But," he added with his droll humor,
"I can't say how far."
"Don't you know that he'll kill you if he can?" questioned the Dean
curiously, while his eyes twinkled approval.
"He does seem to have some such notion," admitted Patches.
"You better let him alone," said the Dean. "You don't need to kill
yourself to get a job with this outfit."
"That's very kind of you, sir," returned the stranger gratefully. "I'm
rather glad you said that. But I'm going to ride him just the same."
They looked at him in amazement, for it was clear to them now that the
man really could not ride.
The Dean spoke kindly. "Why?"
"Because," said Patches slowly, "I am curious to see what I will do
under such circumstances, and if I don't try the experiment now I'll
never know whether I have the nerve to do it or not." As he finished he
turned and walked deliberately toward the horse.
Phil ran to Curly's side, and the cowboy at his foreman's gesture leaped
from his saddle. The young man mounted his helper's horse, and with a
quick movement caught the riata from the saddle horn and flipped open a
ready loop.
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