178 WHEAT AND WOMAN 



There were voices on the trail before nine o'clock. 

 I was at my end of the veranda and remained there. 

 It happens that one's presence is not always welcome 

 on a holiday, but on that night Roddy McMahon 

 made a great point of coming my way, so I knew 

 that all was well. 



" I brought along this feller. He was lookin' for 

 work. I guess he'll do all right. He knows he's 

 got to do the chores." 



" Did you have a good time ? " I inquired. 



" Pretty middlin' ! The Fort fellers ain't up 

 to much. They got scared over losin' their dollars 

 and the race was off. There was some good pony 

 racin' with the Indians, though. My, but I lost 

 a chance ! There was a breed down there with as 

 nice a little horse as I ever see. An' he sold him 

 for thirteen dollars ! Worth a hundred if he was 

 worth a cent ! " 



" Thirteen dollars ! He must have been mad." 



" That was it. Mad-drunk, wasn't he, Pat ? 

 My missus guessed I ought to buy him for you, 

 but I hadn't got the dollars with me." 



" But you don't suppose that I would buy a 

 valuable horse of a drunken man for half nothing ! " 

 I protested. And then knew I had been horribly 

 tactless, superior, and ungrateful. 



" It's different with you, I know," I exclaimed in 

 contrition. " We don't see the thing in the same 

 light. Honesty is our one national decency. It has 

 eaten its way into our bones. We can't help it any 

 more than you can help your accent ; that is to say, 

 than we can help our accent. To have bought 

 that horse would have been all right from your 

 point of view, but out of the question for an 



