fidget about and I'll tell you just how you did it. When I made that last shot I didn't hit the ball squarely and it wasn't quite through. You struck it with your foot and got the goal. Don't you see, you scored the winning goal?"
Patches whinnied and asked for another lump of sugar and got two for good measure. Then Larry smoothed out his fore top under the brow band and stroked his beautiful flowing mane, caressed his soft nose and gave him the remaining lumps of sugar.
"Come on, old pal," he said, "we got to be going. They must be a mile ahead of us."
So he swung into his saddle again and Patches resumed his steady lope. Three hours later the faithful horse was nibbling the frost-bitten grass by the roadside thirty miles from Wyanne while his master, wrapped in his blanket with his feet to the camp fire, slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.
