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“Something fancy, I imagine.”

“She lifts her feet like a lady; she’s fast, and intelligent more’n the hired man.”

“What’s she worth?”

Bard laughed. “Well,” he replied “I hardly know, as I say, I never thought o’ lettin’ ’er go.”

“But you could give me some idea.”

“I know I turned down a three-hundred-dollar offer a couple o’ months ago.”

The Reverend Tough whistled softly. “The Lord’s servants,” he said, “are notoriously lacking in the world’s goods, Mr. Bard. I fear I would have to seek a cheaper animal.”

There was a well-considered pause before Bard spoke.

“You better come down and see her in the daylight,” he said. “You might not want her. But I’d like to see you with a good horse—your profession calls for it.”

“I think so, too.”

“And when it comes to that, I wouldn’t be against knocking off, say, a hundred, if you really want her.”

“Really! That’s good of you. Now, look here, Mr. Bard, I’ll come down to-morrow and see her. It’s comforting to know that a man in these days can get a little for love, when he hasn’t got the price.”