The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies | Page 8

I have arranged it so
that in the future you shall not be denied this pleasure. Do you happen
to know where there are any ponies for sale at this moment?"
"Yes, sir. They have several at the McCormick farm about three miles
from town. They are very fine ponies, too, sir. One of them, I think,
would make an excellent mate for Jo-Jo, if you are considering getting
another one for Walter to drive or ride."
"No, I was not thinking of doing that at present. I will tell you what I
propose to do, however."
"Yes, sir."
"I propose to send you out to the McCormicks' this afternoon, if you
can spare the time. When you reach there you will pick out what you
consider is the best pony in the lot, and bring him back to town. They
will let you have him upon presentation of the letter I shall give you
before you leave," smiled the banker.
"I--I don't quite understand, sir. I--I-- what is it you wish me to do with
the pony?" stammered Tad.
Banker Perkins rose, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Take him home with you--he is yours, Tad."
"My--my--mine?"
"Yes."
A sudden rush of color flashed into the face of Tad Butler and crept up

to the roots of his hair, his eyes holding those of the hanker in an
unflinching gaze.
"I--am sorry, sir; but I cannot accept it."
"What?" exclaimed Mr. Perkins.
"I thank you very much. Believe me, I do. But I could not accept a gift
like that from you. You will understand me, won't you? I couldn't--I
couldn't do it; that's all."
"I do, my lad. I understand you perfectly," answered the hanker slowly,
grasping the lad's hand and gripping it until Tad winced.
"Thank you," murmured Tad, backing from the room, with as much
composure as he was able to muster.
Reaching the street, the boy clenched his fingers until the nails dug into
the palms of his hands. Then, with shoulders erect, he strode rapidly off
down the street to continue his duties at the grocery store.
CHAPTER III
TAD GOES INTO BUSINESS
After supper, that night, Banker Perkins strolled leisurely across town
to the cottage occupied by Tad Butler and his mother. The house lay on
the outskirts of the village, surrounded by half an acre of ground, part
of which the boy tilled, keeping the little family in vegetables a great
part of the year. The rest of the plot had been seeded down, and was
now covered with a bright green carpet of new clover.
Tad, being busy at the grocery store that night, did not return home for
his supper, so that the banker's visit was all unknown to the boy who
was going stoically about his duties over in the village. Yet, in his clear
eyes there was nothing of regret at his own refusal to permit the desire
of his life to be gratified.

Mr. Perkins remained at the cottage for nearly an hour and a half, and a
quiet smile might have been observed hovering about his lips as he
bade good-night to Mrs. Butler, whose countenance reflected
something of his own satisfaction.
"I will attend to the matter on Monday morning," were his parting
words, at which Mrs. Butler bowed and withdrew into the cottage.
All unmindful of the important conference, Tad returned home at ten
o'clock. His mother was awaiting him. She greeted him with a hearty
embrace and a kiss, which the boy returned with no less fervor.
"I have a nice, warm supper ready for you, Tad," she informed him.
"You must have a man's appetite by this time, for you have had hardly
anything to eat since your breakfast."
"It does put an appetite into a fellow, riding behind a horse, even if it is
an old lame one," laughed Tad.
"I really believe you would find pleasure in driving a wooden horse,
such as I have seen in harness shops," smiled Mrs. Butler. "You are so
like your grandfather. He would miss a meal at any time for the sake of
driving a horse or talking horse with a friend."
"Father didn't care so much about them, did he?"
"No, your father was not particularly interested in horses. He was in too
poor health to be able to handle them after he reached a position where
he might have afforded such a luxury."
Tad nodded reflectively.
"And you still want a pony, do you, my son?" asked Mrs. Butler,
leaning forward with a twinkle in her eyes. But the boy's gaze was
fixed steadily on his plate and he failed to note the expression.
"Yes, I do, mother. However, I don't allow myself to think much about
it. I have got to