slender youth and coltish gambolings. Pedro was
seated in his customary place upon an empty keg
on the porch, and Felipe, ignoring his grunted
greeting, plunged at once into the purpose of his
call.

He had come to borrow a horse, Felipe explained.
One of his own was unfit for work, yet
the cutting and drawing must go on. While the
mare was recuperating, he carefully pointed out,
he himself could continue to earn money to meet
some of his pressing debts. Any kind of horse
would do, he declared, so long as it had four legs
and was able to carry on the work. The horse
need not have a mouth, even, he added, jocosely,
for reasons nobody need explain. After which
he sat down on the porch and awaited the august
decision.

Pedro remained silent a long time, the while
he moistened his lips with fitful tongue, and gazed
across the tiny settlement reflectively. At length
he drew a deep breath, mixed of disgust and regret,
and proceeded to make slow reply.

It was true, he began, that he had horses to
rent. And it was further true, he went on, deliberately,
that he kept them for just this purpose.
But -- and his pause was fraught with deep
significance -- it was no less true that Felipe
Montoya bore a bad reputation as a driver of
horses -- was known, indeed, to kill horses through
overwork and underfeed -- and that, therefore, to
lend him a horse was like kissing the horse good-by
and hitching up another to the stone-boat.

[[17]]

p016 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p017w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p018

v?