For several days Chip watched the Kid covertly whenever his
small feet strayed stableward; watched and was full of secret
pride at the manner in which the Kid rose to his new
responsibility. Never did a "string" receive the care which
Silver got, and never did rider sit more proudly upon his
steed than did the Kid sit upon Silver. There seemed to be
practically no risk--Chip was amazed at the Kid's ability to
ride. Besides, Silver was growing old--fourteen years being
considered ripe old age in a horse. He was more given to
taking life with a placid optimism that did not startle
easily. He carried the Kid's light weight easily, and he had
not lost all his springiness of muscle. The Little Doctor
rode him sometimes, and loved his smooth gallop and his even
temper; now she loved him more when she saw how careful he
was of the Kid. She besought the Kid to be careful of Silver
also, and was most manfully snubbed for her solicitude.

The Kid had owned Silver for a week, and considered that he
was qualified to give advice to the Happy Family, including
his Daddy Chip, concerning the proper care of horses. He
stood with his hands upon his hips and his feet far apart,
and spat into the corral dust and told Big Medicine that
nobody but a pilgrim ever handled a horse the way Big
Medicine was handling Deuce. Whereat Big Medicine gave a
bellowing haw-haw-haw and choked it suddenly when he saw that
the Kid desired him to take the criticism seriously.

"All right, Buck," he acceded humbly, winking openly at the
Native Son. "I'll try m'best, old-timer. Trouble with me is,
I never had nobody to learn me how to handle a hoss."