I can sit any street car or taxicab in the world, and I can even ride a horse if he’ll cooperate. But when the horse doesn’t want to stay under me—the horse wins.
Rollo was going to win. I wasn’t foolish enough to waste strength fighting him.
So the next time he traded ends, I went away from him, holding myself limp, so the tumble wouldn’t ruin me.
Smith had caught the yellow pony, and was holding its head, when I took my knees off my forehead and stood up.
Peery, squatting on his heels, was frowning at me. Milk River was looking at Rollo with what was supposed to be a look of utter amazement.
“Now whatever did you do to Rollo to make him act thataway?” Peery asked me.
“Maybe he