Bridge hesitated. "Oh, put me down as L. Bridge," he said.
"Where from?" asked the ranch foreman.
"El Orobo Rancho," answered Bridge.
Grayson shot a quick glance at the man. The answer
confirmed his suspicions that the stranger was probably a
horse thief, which, in Grayson's estimation, was the worst
thing a man could be.
"Where did you get that pony you come in on?" he
demanded. "I ain't sayin' nothin' of course, but I jest want to
tell you that we ain't got no use for horse thieves here."
The Easterner, who had been a listener, was shocked by the
brutality of Grayson's speech; but Bridge only laughed.
"If you must know," he said, "I never bought that horse,
an' the man he belonged to didn't give him to me. I just took
him."
"You got your nerve," growled Grayson. "I guess you
better git out. We don't want no horse thieves here."
"Wait," interposed the boss. "This man doesn't act like a
horse thief. A horse thief, I should imagine, would scarcely
admit his guilt. Let's have his story before we judge him."
"All right," said Grayson; "but he's just admitted he stole
the horse."
Bridge turned to the boss. "Thanks," he said; "but really I
did steal the horse."
Grayson made a gesture which said: "See, I told you so.
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