MC DOEL. 217 



for the farmer to take advantage of, and Mac afterwards 

 felt like treating his tongue to a coat of tar and feathers 

 for its breach of a trader's strategy, when he learned that 

 the farmer had shown the horse to almost every other 

 horseman in town for $135. 



"Well, you see, Mr. McNulty, the horse belongs to 

 my son, and I couldn't sell him nohow to-night. I'll bring 

 the boy in Thursday and you can do your own tradin' 

 with him," and off rides Rhoades, leaving Mac with Irs 

 presentiment, leaning on the gate, his hopes, like the sun, 

 going down. 



"Well, wife," says McNulty at the supper table, "I 

 just saw the best green horse in Missouri, and oh, how 

 I'd like to own him." 



"But Mac, your stable is full of horses now and the 

 expense of keeping them takes all your money. I do hope 

 you won't get another." 



"Yes, but I never had or saw one like this. I've 

 owned from time to time a good many and never a real 

 good one. I believe if I had that horse I could sell him 

 for $2,500 inside a year." 



"Mac, you are crazy, plum crazy, $2,500!" 



But next morning McNulty went to a friend, a shrewd 

 cattle dealer, with his story, concluding by saying he 

 hadn't the money on hand he could spare, and proposing 

 that the friend should advance the $200, and they would 

 own the horse in equal partnership. The story had its 

 effect and Mac went away with the money in his pocket, 

 and rosy visions of the one-half joint ownership in the 

 best green horse in Missouri. 



Thursday came, but not likewise the farmer or son 

 or horse. Day after day passed, no horse. Nearly two 

 weeks had gone by, when one day Mac spied his farmer 



