taller, an' stid of squealin' 'round the way you say he's doin', like a
stuck pig, I kep' my tongue between my teeth an' laid to git even some
time."

"You ort to 've hed the law on him," declared Mrs. Bixbee, now fully
converted. "The old scamp!"

"Wa'al," was the reply, "I gen'all prefer to settle out of court, an' in
this partic'lar case, while I might 'a' ben willin' t' admit that I hed
ben did up, I didn't feel much like swearin' to it. I reckoned the time
'd come when mebbe I'd git the laugh on the deakin, an' it did, an'
we're putty well settled now in full."

"You mean this last pufformance?" asked Mrs. Bixbee. "I wish you'd quit
beatin' about the bush, an' tell me the hull story."

"Wa'al, it's like this, then, if you _will_ hev it. I was over to
Whiteboro a while ago on a little matter of worldly bus'nis, an' I seen
a couple of fellers halter-exercisin' a hoss in the tavern yard. I stood
'round a spell watchin' 'em, an' when he come to a standstill I went an'
looked him over, an' I liked his looks fust rate.

"'Fer sale?' I says.

"'Wa'al,' says the chap that was leadin' him, 'I never see the hoss that
wa'n't if the price was right.'

"'Your'n?' I says.

"'Mine an' his'n,' he says, noddin' his head at the other feller.