CHAPTER V

SWAPPING HOSSES

Not more than a fortnight after Windy Batts had been weighed in the balance by the Clary Grove boys, Mrs. Mirandy Benson ran over to Rutledge's to discuss a few news items.

Mrs. Benson was Phoebe Jane Benson's mother. Phoebe Jane Benson had never been kissed by a human man--her mother the authority for the statement. "No start, no finish," was Mrs. Benson's oft-quoted statement as touching the delicate question of the preservation of female virtue. "For this reason, Mis' Rutledge, I'm dead set against huggin'. There's never no tellin' where huggin' will end, and Phoebe Jane shan't get no opportunity."

But it was not of hugging that she now talked. "Mis' Rutledge," she said, "Windy Batts has been dipped and is going to set out preachin' for the Hard Shells and will hold a meetin' near New Salem. It's set to his credit, I say, that he chose to unite with the Hard Shells instead of the Clary Grove gang. Since Windy Batts has been keepin' company with Phoebe Jane, I've been uncommon interested. He has a powerful flow of language, and will make a famous exhorter."

A second topic of conversation was the tall clerk who was in charge of the new store opened by Offutt. "He's the one that helped Mentor Graham election day and has been chopping rails since on Turtle Ford.

"Everybody in town's been in the store, and the men hang around every evenin'. Phoebe Jane, she's been, too. He's an awful friendly fellow, scraped up a speakin' with Phoebe Jane and asked her who in these parts could sing. She told him she could sing, bass or tenor, either he liked. Phoebe Jane was quite took up with him and wanted to ask him to meetin'. But he's too friendly. These friendly young fellows must be watched. He might be all right. Then again he mightn't, and if he should take a huggin' spell like some young fellows takes, with them arms no tellin' what might happen. I told Phoebe Jane not to let out too much rope, especially since Windy Batts got religion."

It was true the new clerk at Offutt's store had inquired who about New Salem could sing. Having been unable to learn anything satisfactory from the girl he had asked, he put the question to several men who chanced to be in the store. The only result of his questioning was to bring out a story about a girl in New Salem who had a "singin'" in her head for which a plaster of "psalm tunes," applied to the feet to draw the singing down, had been prescribed. Unsatisfied, young Lincoln determined to keep his ears open and try to discover for himself.

Meantime there were many to get acquainted with, and when Bill Clary himself invited the new man to the Grove, he at once accepted the invitation.

Ole Bar, Buck Thompson, Jo Kelsy and several others had gathered early and were discussing the guest that was to arrive shortly. Buck Thompson was especially interested. He was in possession of a horse with a head three times too large and legs four times too small for his bony body. Some fatal defect in the horse made him, as Buck Thompson confidently told the crowd, "not worth a chaw," and this horse he was going to try to swap Lincoln, "sights unseen."

Speculation has just started as to the outcome of Buck's horse-trade when Clary and the tall stranger arrived.

"His name is Abe Lincoln," Clary advised.

"'Linkhorn' is what they called me over in Indiana."

"Paws, Abry Linkhorn," Ole Bar said, extending his hand and casting his one good eye with approval on the stranger.

The few brief formalities having been dispensed with, the group settled down to stories and discussions, Ole Bar leading off with a graphic description of many of the wonders of Arkansas, and its riches of soil and abundance of game. "There was one feller down thar had a sow," he declared gravely. "She stole an ear of corn and took it down whar she slept at night. She spilt a grain or two on the ground, and then she lay on them. And, gentlemen, believe it or not, before morning the corn shot up, pushed on right through her and the percussion killed her. Next morning she was found flat as a pancake and three-inch corn sticking like green har through her spotted hide."

"I swear!" exclaimed Jo Kelsy.

"Don't cuss; jes go down to that country and see," was Ole Bar's comment.

When Abe Lincoln's time came he was asked for the lizard story he had told at the store the night the flat boat stuck on the dam. In an inimitable way he told the story, joining heartily with the others in the boisterous laughter it called forth, but neither this nor any other of the stories told diverted the mind of Buck Thompson from the main question, this being, "Is he as green as he looks? Will he swap hosses?"

"Don't happen to have a hoss you want to trade, do ye?" Buck at last indifferently questioned.

The interest of the company was at once centered on the answer.

"Want to swap hosses?" Abe Lincoln asked good naturedly.

"Well, I dunno. Do you happen to own a hoss of any kind?"

"Yep," answered the visitor. "Such as it is, I own a hoss."

An expression of pleasure showed on the face of Buck Thompson.

"What sort is he?" Buck asked.

"Who said it was a 'he'?"

The crowd laughed.

"What kind is she?" Buck corrected.

"Well," answered the youth as if weighing the matter, "she ain't nothing extra on looks, but she can stand up under as much hard work as any hoss in these parts."

"How old is she?"

"I dunno to a day--not very old."

"Stand without hitchin'?"

"Never's been hitched to anything in her life."

"Saddle hoss, I take it. Ain't any mustang is it?"

"Not a drop of mustang in the critter, I swear it."

"Ain't blind in one eye, is she?"

"No."

"How's her legs?"

"Can't lie partner. She's stiff in the legs."

"Stiff in the legs, eh? How about her teeth?"

"Haven't counted them."

"Ever had the botts?"

"Not as I know of."

"Or winded?"

"Not since I've had her."

"Want to swap hosses?" Buck asked.

"What you got?" Abe Lincoln asked with interest.

"I got one what'll stand hitched. I'm goin' to be honest as you and tell you my hoss has stiff legs. From what I git, my hoss is just about such a hoss as your hoss. How'll you swap, sight unseen?"

Abe Lincoln aked a few questions which proved beyond a doubt to Buck Thompson that the lanky youth was as green as he looked on the horse-trading proposition, and he was delighted both for the stakes involved and the effect of his deal on the Clary Grove Boys, when Abe Lincoln agreed to the trade.

"Where's your hoss at?" Buck inquired.

"Out back of Offutt's store. Where's yourn?"

"He's to home--but I'll bring him."

"Any rush?" Lincoln inquired. "Morning's not far off."

But Buck had no notion of taking chances on letting the horse-trader consider over night. He insisted on winding up the trade in the bright light of the moon in front of Offutt's store. The crowd agreed to be present, and immediately afterward, with singing and loud talking, the Clary Grove gang took their way to New Salem to Offutt's store. Buck Thompson went after his horse, and Abe Lincoln disappeared in the shadows of the store to find his.

Buck was the first to arrive. Not even the moonlight could cast any redeeming qualities on the beast that hobbled after him. The crowd looked it over and laughed uproariously. Buck grinned with satisfaction at the sight-unseen trade he was about to make and questioned half fearfully if the greenhorn would stand by his agreement.

The appearance in the distance of a tall and shadowy figure approaching with long, easy strides was not reassuring. Certainly he was neither leading nor driving a horse. The company looked. As he came nearer they saw he carried something. Its shadow blended with that of his body.

"He's got his hoss under his arm or on his back," one observed.

Buck was looking anxiously.

"Bet two to one it's a goat," Jo Kelsy said.

This sounded good to Buck. "Goat!" he said with evident pleasure. Then they looked again. The next minute he cleared the last lap of shadow and came into the light in the open space.

There was a moment of impressive silence.

"My hoss is this kind--one of the most useful animals in this neck of the woods," and he placed a saw-horse before them.

There was a moment of impressive silence, then the angry voice of Buck Thompson.

"You're a liar," he cried, greatly angered by the roar of laughter that had greeted the speech.

A dead hush fell on the company. A fight seemed the next excitement. Every eye was on Lincoln.

"Don't get riled up," he said good naturedly, "especially after I told you I was tellin' the truth. Didn't I tell you her legs was stiff?"

"Yeh," roared 'Buck--"and you told me she had two good eyes--eh, boys?" and he turned to the crowd standing close about.

"Easy now," Abe Lincoln remonstrated. "I didn't say she had two good eyes. You asked if she was blind in one eye, and I said 'No, she ain't blind in no eye.'"

"You said she had all her teeth," Buck challenged.

"Naw, what I said was, 'she hasn't never lost no teeth, far as I know.' Can you see any place where they have come out?"

Clearly the new clerk had the best of the trade. Buck Thompson stood to his bargain. The horse was passed to Lincoln. He looked it over. Something in the ungainly figure and the big-headed horse brought a smile. Yet they waited. What would he do next--or say?

"Partner," he said to Buck after the examination, "I wouldn't know what use to make of this here critter. I can't make no sight-unseen proposition, but I'd give you two bits for my own hoss back."