True Grit

Free True Grit by Charles Portis Page B

Book: True Grit by Charles Portis Read Free Book Online
Authors: Charles Portis
the stock barn and looked over the ponies in the corral. There did not seem to be a great deal of difference in them, apart from color, and at length I decided on a black one with white forelegs.

    He was a pretty thing. Papa would not own a horse with more than one white leg. There is a foolish verse quoted by horsemen to the effect that such a mount is no good, and particularly one with four white legs. I forget just how the verse goes but you will see later that there is nothing in it.

    I found Stonehill in his office. He was wrapped in a shawl and sitting very close to his stove and holding his hands up before it. No doubt he was suffering from a malarial chill. I pulled up a box and sat down beside him and warmed myself.

    He said, "I just received word that a young girl fell head first into a fifty-foot well on the Towson Road. I thought perhaps it was you."

    "No, it was not I."

    "She was drowned, they say."

    "I am not surprised."

    "Drowned like the fair Ophelia. Of course with her it was doubly tragic. She was distracted from a broken heart and would do nothing to save herself. I am amazed that people can bear up and carry on under these repeated blows. There is no end to them."

    "She must have been silly. What do you hear from the Little Rock soap man?"

    "Nothing. The matter is still hanging fire. Why do you ask?"

    "I will take one of those ponies off your hands. The black one with the white stockings in front. I will call him 'Little Blackie.' I want him shod this afternoon."

    "What is your offer?"

    "I will pay the market price. I believe you said the soap man offered ten dollars a head."

    "That is a lot price. You will recall that I paid you twenty dollars a head only this morning."

    "That was the market price at that time."

    "I see. Tell me this, do you entertain plans of ever leaving this city?"

    "I am off early tomorrow for the Choctaw Nation. Marshal Rooster Cogburn and I are going after the murderer Chaney."

    "Cogburn?" said he. "How did you light on that greasy vagabond?"

    "They say he has grit," said I. "I wanted a man with grit."

    "Yes, I suppose he has that. He is a notorious thumper. He is not a man I should care to share a bed with."

    "No more would I."

    "Report has it that he rode by the light of the moon with Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson. I would not trust him too much. I have heard too that he was particeps criminis in some road-agent work before he came here and attached himself to the courthouse."

    "He is to be paid when the job is done," said I. "I have given him a token payment for expenses and he is to receive the balance when we have taken our man. I am paying a good fee of one hundred dollars."

    "Yes, a splendid inducement. Well, perhaps it will all work out to your satisfaction. I shall pray that you return safely, your efforts crowned with success. It may prove to be a hard journey."

    "The good Christian does not flinch from difficulties."

    "Neither does he rashly court them. The good Christian is not willful or presumptuous."

    "You think I am wrong."

    "I think you are wrongheaded."

    "We will see."

    "Yes, I am afraid so."

    Stonehill sold me the pony for eighteen dollars. The Negro smith caught him and brought him inside on a halter and filed his hoofs and nailed shoes on him. I brushed the burrs away and rubbed him down. He was frisky and spirited but not hysterical and he submitted to the treatment without biting or kicking us.

    I put a bridle on him but I could not lift Papa's saddle easily and I had the smith saddle him. He offered to ride the pony first. I said I thought I could handle him. I climbed gingerly aboard. Little Blackie did nothing for a minute or so and then he took me by surprise and pitched twice, coming down hard with his forelegs stiff, giving severe jolts to my "tailbone" and neck. I would have been tossed to the ground had I not grabbed the saddle horn and a handful of mane. I could get a purchase on nothing else, the stirrups being far

Similar Books

Evil Intent

Kate Charles

The World of Poo

Terry Pratchett

Mended

By Kimberly M. Clayborne

Salvage the Bones

Jesmyn Ward

The Unknown Shore

Patrick O’Brian