The cowboy was worried all the rest of the day and lost some sleep that night a wondering how he was going to dodge Old Tom. He knowed the old cowman would be around with some proposition to swap him out of Smoky, and that was one of the last things the cowboy would do. There wasn't a horse in the outfit or anywheres else he'd trade Smoky for. It's took for granted on any real cow outfit that whenever a horse is swapped or borrowed out of a cowboy's string and handed to somebody else, that that cowboy is requested to quit or be fired, in other words it's an insult that makes any real cowboy want to scrap and then ask for his wages. Clint was a valuable man to the outfit, but with Old Tom one cowboy more or less didn't matter, that is if that cowboy stood between him and a horse he wanted. He walked up to Clint the next day and not hesitating any he says: "I'm going to try that mouse colored horse you was riding yesterday;" and thinking it'd please Clint to hear, he went on, "and if I like him I'll trade you my brown horse Chico for him; he's the best horse I got at the home ranch." But all that only made Clint get red in the face, and fire showed in his eyes as he spoke. "Huh! you can't ride Smoky." "Why in samhill cant I?" asks Old Tom, also getting red in the face. "Cause you can't," answers Clint, "why you couldn't even put a saddle on him." Clint was for quitting the outfit right there and hit for some other country, but the thought of leaving Smoky behind kinda put him to figgering another way out;--if he could get Old Tom sort of peeved and let him handle Smoky while he was feeling that way, most likely that pony would do the rest. "I'll show you whether I can saddle that horse or not," says Old Tom, frothing at the mouth; "why I've handled and rode broncs that you couldn't get in the same corral with, and before you even was born." "Yep," says Clint, grinning sarcastic, "that was too long ago, and you're too daggoned old now for that kind of a horse." Old Tom glared at Clint for a second, and not finding no ready come back done the next best thing and got busy. He went to his saddle, jerked his rope off it, and spitting fire, shook out a loop that could be heard a whistling plum to the other side of the corral. Smoky was surprised into a dozen catfits as that same wicked loop settled over his head and drawed tight and sudden around his neck. He bellered and bucked thru the remuda a dragging Old Tom with him. The old cowman made a motion and two grinning cowboys went and helped him.