"It's plumb wicked to ride around with all that wealth and fussy stuff.

He must 'a' robbed a bank and put the money all into a riding outfit." "By golly, he looks to me like a pair uh trays when he comes bow-leggin' along with them white diamonds on his legs," Slim stated solemnly.
"And I'll gamble that's a spot higher than he stacks up in the cow game," Pink observed with the pessimism which matrimony had given him.
"You mind him asking about bad horses, last night?
That Lizzie-boy never saw a bad horse; they don't grow 'em where he come from.

What they don't know about riding they make up for with a swell rig--" "And, oh, mamma! It sure is a swell rig!" Weary paid generous tribute.
"Only I will say old Banjo reminds me of an Irish cook rigged out in silk and diamonds.

That outfit on Glory, now--" He sighed enviously.
"Well, I've gone up against a few real ones in my long and varied career," Irish remarked reminiscently, "and I've noticed that a hoss never has any respect or admiration for a swell rig.

When he gets real busy it ain't the silver filigree stuff that's going to help you hold connections with your saddle, and a silver-mounted bridle-bit ain't a darned bit better than a plain one." "Just take a look at him!" cried Pink, with intense disgust.