Ole Treble Finney’s mare was bound to die. I reckon Ole Treble thought more o’ that mare than he did his passel o’ young ’uns. And a powerful sight more’n he did his woman afore she left his house for him and the devil to lock horns in.
Ole Treble was a mighty hard man to git along with. He’d kilt two men, I’d heered it told. And his wife had stripes on her like black runners where he’d beat her. She’d carry them marks to the grave, I heered it said.
I reckon all o’ Treble’s sins piled together in a brashpile would look like a haystack o’ puore midnight.
My pap and Ole Treble never lost no time callin’ each other brethren. Treble never allowed Pap was much of a hoss doctor. Once he had a jinny to die after he’d called Pap too late. He never got over that proper. A jinny’s got a time to die jist like a man. But Treble was quare like that. He always did thank more of his creatures than he did folks. Even his own blood kin.
All Ole Treble ever said about Pap never done no harm. Pap kept gittin’ his license every year and his docterin’ kept him workin’ right peart. Oh I reckon they was a lot in the books Pap never larned. No man kin larn squar’ to the end o’ nothin’.
But my pap knowed somethin’ that the doctor books don’t larn nobody. Pap had him a way with creatures that was passin’ anythang I ever seen or heered tell of. The fightinest dog would jist walk up to Pap and lick his boots. He could git a horse or a cow to lay down quiet for him to work on ’em.
You ever see a baby that’s scairt o’ men folks? Won’t even let its own poppy come nigh? My pap could sort o’ go up to a leetle chap and they would stick out their arms and come to him.
Oh my pap was a purty quiet sort o’ fellow. He never went along hollerin’ to folks like he was runnin’ for county judge. He bore no hard feelin’s, but he never was a speakin’-out man. He never passed a chap, or a dog, or a horse without callin’ out to ’em. But he was liable to pass a man up without a friendly word. Oh you had to know my Pap or you’d git him down wrong.
When I heered Treble Finney’s mare had the bloats I was sort o’ tickled. I never tuk no joy in that mare sufferin’. Hit was Treble Finney sufferin’ that made me feel good sort o’ ’round the edge o’ my liver. Hit was Treble needin’ my pap to doctor his mare, and him too hard-headed to ask him to come. Hit must o’ been like pullin’ eyeteeth for him to come and git my pap after all he had said. And he was shore slow as Egypt about it.
But he did come. I wouldn’t tuk a war pension for seein’ Ole Treble come a-sidlin’ up to our homeplace and a-callin’ out for Pap.
Pap jist sent me out to tell him he’d be there in a minute. Pap jist set there a-readin’ in the paper, gittin’ all the good out o’ Treble bilin’ outside.
When Pap went out to see Treble, I got down on the floor and peeped out the cat hole. I couldn’t see nothin’ but their boots, but I heered some o’ what they said. Pap says he can’t go for less than twenty-five dollars. He was askin’ Ole Treble twenty-five dollars when he never asked a fellow more’n two. And he never turned down a sufferin’ creature if he never got a red cent. Ole Treble went to stallin’. I could see his heels workin’ up and down in the dirt.
I heered Pap say twenty-five dollars in puore cash. That must o’ burnt Ole Treble squar’ through his gizzard to pay cash and the craps not nigh out o’ the ground. I got up and sot one eye on a crack in the door. I seen Treble retch down in his pocket fur his money. I reckon he had the deepest pocket I ever seen. He went squar’ up to the elbow afore he come out with a roll o’ bills.
Pap asked Treble what was the matter with his mare. Treble says hit was the bloats and tells him how she is blowed up. Pap says hit takes a hoss doctor to tell what’s the matter with stock. He says this knowin’ all the time it was bloats. Treble says he reckons he knowed his mare had et up a sack o’ sweet feed, and he knowed the bloats when he seen ’em. My pap says he differs. He says he’s the onliest one in this country that got the right to say what’s wrong with a mare for shore.
That burnt Ole Treble up. I reckon he wished he hadn’t come for Pap. Hit was costin’ him money and raw pride. I reckon Ole Treble would liked to have shot Pap squar’ through. The last man he kilt was for less than Pap had said to him.
Pap tuk his saddlebags and packed his bottles in. I asked him to let me go, knowin’ I couldn’t cause somebody had to stay home with our mare. Hit was gittin’ nigh her time. But I wanted to go purty bad. I’d had my mind sot on bein’ a hoss doctor myself and never turned down a chanct o’ pickin’ up a leetle extra larnin’.
Pap rid off with Treble and I went out to the barn to take a look at our mare Dolly. Afore I got in the lot I heered her blowin’ through her nose. And she whinnied right loud two times. I never thought a thang. I was thankin’ she wanted to git out for a drank o’ water.
When I opened the door it was dusty-dark inside and I didn’t see nothin’ for a minute. Then I seen Dolly standin’ in the corner with her head down, lickin’ somethang on the floor. Then I seen the colt.
Well, I was right smart proud o’ that colt. Pap had promised it to me when it come. I got down on my hands and knees in the stall to see what kind it was. Hit was a male. I was right tickled. In a minute he got up and stood on his leetle legs, lookin’ at me and his mommy. His legs was like broomstraws. They was that thin. And his leetle head put me in mind of a deer. By that time my eyeballs was gittin’ use to the dark stable.
When I seen everythang was all right I lit out for the house. Mommy was right tickled too, and says I can go tell Pap. So I struck out to Ole Treble Finney’s place.
I found Pap in Treble’s barn. Treble was nowhere ’round. His mare was in a puore bad fix a-layin’ there on the ground heavin’ and wallin’ her eyes. She was blowed up nigh fit to bust. I could see by Pap’s face he’d come too late.
I told Pap about the colt and he never said a word. I told about him bein’ promised to me, and he never said scat. He jist sot about tappin’ Treble’s mare. He sot the tapper in the right spot and drove her in. Then he screwed the middle out of the tapper and out biled the gas. Pap struck a match to it jist to show me hit would burn. Hit spewed like burnin’ tar. He was doin’ all he could for Treble’s mare but he knowed hit was too late.
We heered Treble comin’ to the barn and Pap went outside and shet the door. I heered ’em arguin’ though I couldn’t hear right good. Pap was sayin’ hit wasn’t the bloats and Treble was swearin’ hit was. I was scairt Pap was goin’ to git hisself shot. And Ole Treble was already sore about that twenty-five dollars. I heered him tell Pap he’d better work a cuore. And he said it like he puore meant it. I knowed he meant it. I knowed that mare better not die.
When Pap come back in the stable I seen Pap was sort o’ concerned. Then he tells me what to do. I never thought my pap would o’ done it. He told me to go home and not come back till after dark. And for me to brang the colt in the wagon.
What Pap told me jist about broke me up inside. But I never crossed my pap in my whole life. Hit would have been the puore rawhide if I did. I jist lit out hurtin’ inside, but thankin’ hit was the only way. Givin’ my colt up after he’d been promised me tetched to the quick.
It was nigh sundown when I got home and I went right ahead and hitched up the wagon. Ole Dolly rared powerful when I tuk the colt and laid him down in the wagon-bed. I give her a sweet turnip but she never even looked at it. She was runnin’ up and down the lot whinnyin’ a mighty heap when I left.
As I got close to Treble’s place I throwed some sacks over the colt. Hit was plumb dark but I wasn’t takin’ a chance o’ bein’ seen.
I driv up behind the barn and Pap come out in a hurry and helped me carry the colt in. When we got him in the stable I seed by the lantern light the mare was dead. But she wasn’t half so big with all the gas blowed out. We jist put the colt down and left him there.
I asked Pap how long it had been since Treble was in the stable. He says Treble hasn’t been in since he come. Well, we sot thar and waited for him to come. Thar was a light burnin’ in the house and we knowed he was still up. I reckon we waited thar nigh two hours.
When we seed Treble wasn’t comin’ out Pap told me to go fotch him. I called right big outside the house and he come a-runnin’. The way his coat stuck out I knowed he had a gun in his hip pocket. I was plumb scairt for my pap.
Pap opened the stable door and told Treble his mare is dead. The quarest look come over Treble’s face. Hit kind o’ drawed up in a knot like a ripe ’simmon. He stepped in the stable and looked. He looked at the mare, then he looked at what was standin’ in the corner.
Well, he jist looked. But he never turned a hair. He jist looked at that mare mighty close. I reckon he seen that hole Pap made to let the gas out. Maybe he didn’t. But he never said nothin’.
I seen my colt was gone for good. Treble was thankin’ hit was his colt. I got to hurtin’ inside. I reckon I was ’bout to cry.
Treble must o’ seen my face. He looked at me right hard, then all of a sudden he busts out laughin’. You could o’ heered him a mile. Hit must a shuck his insides powerful to laugh and holler like he done.
When he got done laughin’ he tells me he ain’t in the colt-raisin’ business and I can have it if I want it.
My pap didn’t know what to say. He jist laughed too. There wasn’t nothin’ else to do. He stuck his hands in his pockets and pulled out that twenty-five dollars Treble paid him, and he shucked out two bills. He handed the rest back to Treble. He said bein’ the mare died hit wasn’t worth more’n two dollars.
They laughed some more. Then Treble says he’s got a jug up in the hayloft, and him and my pap skinned up that ladder like a squirrel up a scaly bark.