"I'll get my buckboard.

It's all hitched up and ready, and we can get down and see them right now," he said aloud.
"Won't you find it rough going on the buckboard?
Better ride," remarked Orlando Guise.
"I don't ever notice rough going," grunted the old man.

"Some people ride horses to show themselves off; I ride a buckboard 'cause it suits me." Orlando Guise chirruped.

"Say, we mustn't get scrapping," he said gaily.
"We've got to make a bargain." In a few moments they were sweeping across the prairie, and sure enough the buckboard bumped, tumbled and plunged into the holes of the gophers and coyotes, but the old man sat the seat with the tenacity of a gorilla clinging to the branch of a tree.
In about three-quarters of an hour the two returned to Tralee, and in front of the house the final bargaining took place.

There was a difference of five hundred dollars between them, and the old man fought stubbornly for it; and though Orlando giggled, it was clear he was no fool at a bargain, and that he had many resources.