"It's ninety, with the humidity goodness knows how much!" she retorted.
Without seeming to look, Wallie could see that both Miss Spenceley and Pinkey were on the veranda and regarding him with interest. His pose became a little theatrical while he waited for his mount, striking his riding boot smartly with his crop as he stood in full view of them.
Everyone was interested when they saw the horse coming, and a few sauntered over to have a look at him, Miss Spenceley and Pinkey among the others.
"Is that the horse you always ride, Wallie?" inquired Miss Gaskett.
"No; it's a new one I'm going to try out for them," Wallie replied, indifferently.
"Wallie, do be careful!" his aunt admonished him. "I don't like you to ride strange horses."
Wallie laughed lightly, and as he went down to meet the groom who was now at the foot of the steps with the horses he assured her that there was not the least cause for anxiety.
"Why, that's a Western horse!" Miss Spenceley exclaimed. "Isn't that a brand on the shoulder?"
"It looks like it," Pinkey answered, ruffing the hair then smoothing it. "Shore it's a brand." He stepped off a pace to look at it.
"Pardon me, but I think you're mistaken," Wallie said, politely but positively. "The Academy buys only thoroughbreds."
"If that ain't a bronc, I'll eat it," Pinkey declared, bluntly.
"Can you make out the brand?" asked Miss Spenceley.
Pinkey ruffed the hair again and stepped back and squinted. Then his cracked lips stretched in a grin that threatened to start them bleeding: "'88' is the way I read it."
She nodded: "The brand of Cain."
Then they both laughed immoderately.
Wallie could see no occasion for merriment and it nettled him.
"Nevertheless, I maintain that you are in error," he declared, obstinately.
"I doubt if I could set one of them hen-skin saddles," observed Pinkey, changing the subject.
Wallie replied airily: "Oh, it's very easy if you've been taught properly."
"Taught? You mean," wonderingly, "that somebody learnt you to ride horseback?"
Wallie smiled patronizingly: "How else would I know?"
"I was jest throwed on a horse and told to stay there."
"Which accounts for the fact that you Western riders have no 'form,' if you'll excuse my frankness."
"Don't mention it," replied Pinkey, not to be outdone in politeness. "Maybe, before I go, you'll give me some p'inters?"
"I shall be most happy," Wallie responded, putting his foot in the stirrup.
He mounted creditably and settled himself in the saddle.
"Thumb him," said Miss Spenceley, "and we'll soon settle the argument."
"How--thumb him? The term is not familiar."