74 JUSTIN MORGAN 



''Now do tell !" cried Hiram Sage, sarcastically. 



"That pony pull a log my Jim refused?" scoffed an- 

 other. 



''My 'pony,' as you call him," laughed Evans, good- 

 naturedly, "has never refused me yet." He placed his 

 arm over True's neck ; the horse rattled his chains music- 

 ally, and reached for a low-handing bough. 



"Work is play for this animal," Evans went on. 

 "We've been in the logging-field all day, but that don't 

 make a mite o' difference to the Morgan horse. Come, 

 show us your log!" 



True shook himself again and went on chewing leaves. 



"Why, that beast's naught but a colt!" said Jim's 

 owner, scornfully. 



"Colt or no, he's the finest bit o' horse-flesh this side 

 of The Plains of Abraham !" Evans contended, hotly. 

 "Give him his head and he goes like a shot and doesn't 

 pull an ounce, and as for drawing a load — when this 

 horse starts, something s got to come ! That is," he 

 added with a laugh, "as long as the tugs last!" 



"Well, stop your bragging," said the sarcastic Hiram ; 

 "actions speak louder than words. Hitch him up that 

 there 'something' and let us see it 'come'." 



Miller Chase stepped forward, hospitably. 



"First come in, men, and fix up your bets over a mug," 

 he said. 



They went inside the shop, all talking at once, and 

 left True nibbling among the grasses and weeds. When 

 they had disappeared he glanced at the log which the 

 other horses had "refused" — horses much larger and 

 heavier than he. The opportunity he had hoped for 

 had come ! 



"But can I do it?" he asked himself. 



The answer was, he could, and zvoiild. 



He was spurred to the greatest effort of his life by 



