Page:Bob Chester's Grit.djvu/184

168 "All right, John," smiled the agent. "But I reckon he won't try any more!"

So significant was the agent's tone that Bob inquired anxiously:

"You didn't do anything to him for sending me to Mr. Ford, did you, Hal?"

"No, not much," returned Thomas grimly. Yet had he told the entire truth he would have said he had administered such a beating to the practical joker, upon learning where he had sent Bob, as Fairfax had never seen given by one man to another.

"Won't you come in?" asked the ranchman.

"No, thanks. Can't stop. Got to get back for a train. Here, Bob, come and mount Firefly. He's yours."

"What, you bought Firefly for this boy?" exclaimed Ford in surprise.

"That's what." Then turning to Bob, he added, "Put your left foot in the stirrup and swing into the saddle. That's the way. Say, John, let Bob ride back a way with me. I want to show him a few things about a pony."

"Oh, do!" chimed in Bob.

"All right, though I was calculating to teach him myself," returned Ford, a light such as the station agent had never before seen in his eyes.

"Can I take Chester?" asked Bob.

"Sure, he's yours!"