"I thought that some one like you, Bill, who knew how to handle a horse--" Gwen paused, and then added: "I'll ask The Duke." "No call for that," said Bill, hastily, "not but what The Dook ain't all right as a jedge of a horse, but The Dook ain't got the connection, it ain't his line." Bill hesitated.

"But, if you are real sot on to sellin' that pinto, come to think I guess I could find a sale for him, though, of course, I think perhaps the figger won't be high." And so it was arranged that the pinto should be sold and that Bill should have the selling of it.
It was characteristic of Gwen that she would not take farewell of the pony on whose back she had spent so many hours of freedom and delight.
When once she gave him up she refused to allow her heart to cling to him any more.
It was characteristic, too, of Bill that he led off the pinto after night had fallen, so that "his pardner" might be saved the pain of the parting.
"This here's rather a new game for me, but when my pardner," here he jerked his head towards Gwen's window, "calls for trumps, I'm blanked if I don't throw my highest, if it costs a leg.".