Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [me reader .TXT] 📗

“Better decide now. The fact is, Mr. Richmond, I ought not to let the horse go at that figure, and I may change my mind.”

“I think I shall take your horse, but I have agreed to look at another, and must see that first.”

“Whose?”

“It belongs to a man named Nichols.”

“Sam Nichols?”

“I believe so.”

“I wouldn't advise you to have anything to do with him.”

“Why not?”

“He's a regular sharper. You can't depend on anything he says.”

“Thank you for the caution. I will be on my guard. But I promised to take a look at his horse before deciding. If I don't come to terms with him, and I don't think I shall, I will come round some time this afternoon and make a bargain with you.”

Mr. Holden thought it was hardly politic to urge him farther. With a renewed caution as to dealing with Sam Nichols, he let him go.

“Well,” thought Abner, after he was gone, “it will be a pretty good thing if I get rid of Spitfire”—he had named him thus—“for two hundred and fifty dollars. He's a bad-tempered brute, and blind into the bargain. But I'm not bound to tell Mr. Richmond that, and so spoil my trade. I've put a flea in his ear about Nichols, and I guess he will be back again.”

The prospect of making a good bargain caused Abner to be unusually pleasant and good-humored, so much so that Mrs. Bickford regarded him with surprise. He voluntarily asked her if she did not wish something at the store, volunteering to bring home whatever was needed.

“What's come over the man?” thought the housekeeper. “It's too good to last.”

She was quite correct there. Mr. Holden was naturally crabbed, and fair weather with him was the exception rather than the rule. On the present occasion it did not last many hours.

Abner Holden went to the store, but made other calls on the way, so that he was three hours absent, and did not return till twelve o'clock, the usual dinner hour in his household.

Meanwhile, Mr. Richmond, his caller of the morning, had been to see Sam Nichols, and inspected the horse he had for sale. He did not altogether like its appearance, and, moreover, he was prejudiced against him by what he had heard from Abner Holden, and came away without effecting a purchase.

“I don't think I can do better,” he reflected, “than to take that horse of Holden's. Let me see, it is only half-past ten. I shall have time to go up there this morning. I suppose I might as well settle matters at once.”

Accordingly, eleven o'clock found him again in Abner Holden's yard.

Herbert was out in the yard, engaged in splitting wood.

“Is Mr. Holden at home?” inquired the stranger, pausing.

“No, sir.”

“Will he be at home soon?”

“Yes, sir, I think so. He only went out to the store. He ought to be home now.”

“Then I think I will wait. I was here once before this morning. I was talking with him about buying one of his horses. If you can spare the time, I would like to have you go with me to the pasture, and I will take another look at the one I saw this morning.”

“Certainly, sir,” said Herbert, driving the ax into the block upon which he had been splitting, prepared to accompany Mr. Richmond to the pasture.

They reached the bars dividing the pasture from the next field. Spitfire was cropping the grass just on the other side.

“There,” said the stranger, pointing him out, “that is the horse I was looking at.”

“THAT ONE!” repeated Herbert, in a tone of surprise.

“Yes, he is a fine-looking animal.”

“Ye-es,” said Herbert, hesitatingly.

“However, I don't so much care about that, as for his being gentle. I want him for a family horse, such as my wife may drive, without fear, while I am away.”

“Did Mr. Holden say he's gentle?” asked Herbert.

“Yes. He recommended him highly for that, and told me he had no serious defect.”

“Are you sure this is the horse?” asked Herbert.

“Certainly. I am not likely to be mistaken in it. I suppose it is all as he says?”

Herbert was in a perplexing position. He knew that if he told the truth he should incur Abner Holden's anger, but his conscience revolted at suffering the stranger to be taken in, and thus, perhaps, exposing his wife to serious danger.

“I am afraid I cannot confirm what Mr. Holden says,” he answered, reluctantly. “The horse is very ill-tempered, and is blind of one eye.”

“Is it possible? Then I have had a narrow escape. You have done me a good service, my boy, in telling me the truth, for I am, myself, unused to horses, and should have taken the animal on your employer's recommendation. Accept this acknowledgment of my indebtedness.”

He would have placed a five-dollar bill in Herbert's hand, but our hero firmly refused to receive it.

“I have only done my duty, sir. I cannot accept money for doing that. Thank you all the same.”

“Perhaps you are right, my lad. If I ever have a chance to serve you, don't hesitate to let me know it.”

“There'll be a storm if Mr. Holden hears of this,” thought Herbert. “But I could not do otherwise.”