Hoof Beats 



"Brutus, No. 214 ! Good Gawd ! and for Troop 

 A, too!" 



Brutus felt the sting of the words and the inso- 

 lent manner. It was a good thing for this fool, 

 he thought, with a little thrill of pride, that Jack 

 was a fugitive from justice safe across the Texan 

 border. He'd shot a man more than once for 

 less than an insult to his pony. 



Then he raised his head and saw a tall, lank 

 sunburned man in a sombrero talking to the 

 English oflScer. Brutus felt a wave of homesick- 

 ness when he saw the hat, but when he heard the 

 other's voice it cheered him. He cocked his 

 ears forward and listened. 



'Tf you don't want the pony I'll buy him," the 

 man said eyeing Brutus with a knowing look. 

 Brutus moved a step nearer. 



"Livingston, you war correspondents have 

 queer tastes," the other replied sarcastically. 

 "See the quarter-master," Brutus gave a snort 

 of pleasure and kicked sidewise at an inquisi- 

 tive trooper who had come too near. At any rate, 

 here was a man, one of his own kind, who knew a 

 good cow pony when he saw one, even if it did 

 look a little underfed and ridiculous and had its 

 feelings hurt. 



A few minutes later Brutus saw Livingston 

 coming toward him. 



134 



