Pierce
tried to let this one go, too, but ain't you took a look at his hocks!'
Then along comes Dean Duke, the ratty old foreman in Pierce's stable,
and he don't ogle a bit, either, like you'd expect one of his debased
calibre to, but just stops and talks this horse over with 'em and says
yes, it was his bad hocks that lost the sale, and he tells 'em how he
had told Pierce just what to do to get him shaped up for a quick sale,
but Pierce wouldn't listen to him, thinking he knew it all himself; and
there the four stood and gassed about this horse without even seeing
Beryl Mae, let alone leering at her. I bet she was close to shedding
tears of girlish mortification as she rode off without ever waiting for
the mail. Things was getting to a pretty pass. If low creatures lost to
all decent instincts, like these four, wouldn't ogle a girl when she was
out for it, what could be expected of the better element of the town?
Still, of course, now and then one or the other of the girls would have
a bit of luck to tell of.
"Well, now we come to the crookedest bit of work I ever been guilty of,
though first telling you about Mr.
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