MC DOEL. 219 



landed seventeen miles from home on the farm of the 

 man who did own him. No one at home ; no one at 

 home in any of the neighboring houses. All gone to a 

 "Democratic hurrah," it afterwards transpired, and Mac 

 returned, telling no one of his trip, but internally anathe- 

 matizing the sharp farmer whom he was now convinced 

 surmised his estimate of the horse and shared in its cor- 

 rectness. 



"Mac," said the cattle dealer one day, "it looks like 

 we were not going to get that horse, and anyhow, cattle 

 is my business, not trotting horses, so I guess I'll draw 

 out." 



The $200 was refunded and the partnership expired, 

 not perhaps strictly by "mutual consent," but expired. 



From time to time Mac got a glimpse of the shrewd 

 farmer, when the dodging tactics were invariably and 

 successfully practiced. 



February came, and again one evening the rakish, 

 slim-tailed chestnut with powerful quarters, was ridden 

 up to Mac's house, this time by a young man. 



It was Mac's inning now. He had lasted longest in the 

 game of bluff of holding off between the man who really 

 wanted to sell all the time and the one who wanted, aw- 

 fully, all the time to buy. 



"I've brought that horse around, Mr. McXulty," said 

 the young man. 



"Ah," says Mac, "let me see, what horse?" 



"Why the Rhoades horse father talked to you about 

 last fall," says the son, a chip of the old block, as he 

 tranquilly sized up Mac's countenance and actions, and 

 shrewdly guessing, although at a disadvantage in the 

 situation, that beneath Mac's icy exterior still burned the 

 desire to own that chestnut, curb and all. 



