“I’ll ride him if I can borrow a saddle and bridle,” Scott replied without the least hesitation. The crowd heaved a sigh of relief and Jed Clark settled comfortably back against the fence with a wink at his neighbor.
“Saddle him up, will you, Jed?” Mose called without changing his position or interrupting his conversation.
Jed was the only man in the country who could put his hand on that beautiful stallion without using a rope and there were very few who could rope him. He had taught him that as a colt but he had never tried to ride him. “Is the undertaker here?” he whispered to one of his friends as he climbed leisurely into the corral. The other horses dashed wildly into the opposite corner, but the big black stood his ground and watched his approaching master with head high and sensitive nostrils aquiver. He lowered his head a little condescendingly when Jed patted his shiny neck, took a lump of sugar with great relish, and allowed himself to be bridled without any objection. He was used to that. He followed along quietly enough when Jed led him over to the fence, and picked up a light English saddle, carefully wrapped in a blanket and slipped it gently over his back. Jed buckled the girth and whispered to one of his admirers, “He thinks it’s just a blanket, he’s used to that.”
“All right, you,” he called to Scott as he led the horse back to the middle of the corral.
The supervisor was just giving Scott a little final advice. “Don’t monkey with him any more than you have to before you get on, it makes ’em nervous. Walk right up, put your foot square in the stirrup, mount as quickly as you can without a jerk, be sure to catch the second stirrup, and hold on tight with your knees. Never let him see you hesitate or think that you are afraid of him.”
“I’ll do the best I can,” Scott replied quietly, “but I do not suppose that I can stay on long,” and he started to climb the fence.
Just then the supervisor caught sight of the English saddle. “Hold on there, Jed,” he called angrily, “what kind of a saddle is that for a bucking broncho?”
“It’s an English saddle and your friend’s English, ain’t he?” Jed sneered. It was a brilliant retort but it did not bring the response that he expected except from a few of his friends.