"No, I was not thinking of doing that at present. I will tell you what
I propose to do, however."

"Yes, sir."

"I propose to send you out to the McCormicks' this afternoon, if you
can spare the time. When you reach there you will pick out what you
consider is the best pony in the lot, and bring him back to town.
They will let you have him upon presentation of the letter I shall
give you before you leave," smiled the banker.

"I--I don't quite understand, sir. I--I-- what is it you wish me
to do with the pony?" stammered Tad.

Banker Perkins rose, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Take him home with you--he is yours, Tad."

"My--my--mine?"

"Yes."

A sudden rush of color flashed into the face of Tad Butler and crept
up to the roots of his hair, his eyes holding those of the hanker in
an unflinching gaze.

"I--am sorry, sir; but I cannot accept it."

"What?" exclaimed Mr. Perkins.