The Horse Tamer Read Free Page A

“Easy, boy, get along with you now.”
    The colt took a single stride and the wheels of theempty wagon turned noiselessly behind him. As he took another stride, and still another, Bill walked alongside but a little to the rear, talking to the colt all the while. Hank followed.
    They could see the colt’s confidence return as he moved in the stillness of the early morning. His fine body stopped trembling and only the backward flicking of his ears indicated his concern for what was going on behind him. Bill stopped him repeatedly, rewarding him each time with a bit of apple, and then going on again. Finally Bill started for home.
    “It’s got to be Caspersen’s wagon he’s afraid of,” Bill told his brother. “There’s nothin’ wrong with him while he’s pullin’ mine.”
    “Maybe it’s not so much Caspersen’s wagon as what’s in it,” Hank suggested. He wanted very much to be helpful, for in a way that’s why he was here. Before long he’d have to make his own way in life just as Bill was doing. He’d have to face the realities of an adult world alone. Bill would help prepare him to meet this new and sometimes terrifying challenge.
    “Think of all the merchandise Caspersen sells,” the boy went on eagerly. “Think of the buffalo robes an’—”
    “I am thinkin’ of them,” Bill interrupted, his eyes half-closed. “This wouldn’t be the first horse to be frightened by a buffalo robe or an umbrella. You might be right at that, Hank.”
    “Or maybe bright scarves scare him,” the boy put in quickly. “Or it could be the lightning rods, bells, books, bull rings, tinware …”
    Bill Dailey nodded in agreement as his brotherwent on breathlessly. He was pleased with Hank. He was pleased with all he saw in the bright, deep-set eyes. Hank was growing up fast, and already was as tall as he. His weight was distributed like their father’s—solid through the shoulders, back and chest. Hank probably wouldn’t get much bigger, none of them did—and they were seven, all boys. He’d be a natural leader, too. Hank was the youngest of them all, but his smaller size hadn’t stopped him from holding his own during their childish games and roughhousing, his body straining and weaving in competition against theirs. They were a closely knit family even though, there being so many of them, it was economically necessary for them to leave home early in search of work. But no number of miles would ever destroy the firm and joyful allegiance they had for each other.
    Bill knew exactly why his father had sent Hank to him this summer. And he was aware of his responsibility in setting a good example, for Hank would watch everything he did with quiet, reverent eyes.
    “… and don’t forget those buggy whips,” Hank was concluding excitedly. “Maybe he’d been beaten and just the sight of them—”
    “No,” Bill answered. “I don’t think we’ll find it’s whips he’s scared of. Although I do know Caspersen made matters a lot worse by beating him when he balked. Nope, Hank, this colt’s scared of something besides whips. It’s something simple and we’re goin’ to find out what it is.”
    Back at the stable Hank asked, “What do you want me to do, Bill?” His voice was eager but respectful, theyounger toward the older. “I can find some of the things that were in the wagon. We can try them one at a time.… ”
    “No, Hank, we won’t need many. That is, I hope we won’t.”
    “But you said—”
    “I said we’d find out what’s scarin’ this colt an’ we will,” Bill interrupted. “But look at it this way. He not only balks but he runs away. One moment Caspersen can’t start him an’ the next he can’t stop him. So I figure it might have more to do with
noise
than things.”
    “You mean the rattling of all that tinware maybe?” Hank asked.
    Bill Dailey nodded. “It makes more sense to me that way. First the colt won’t go because if he does the noise behind him starts up. And