There
he cut, stopping many times, and doubling the leather close to the light
to see how deep he had penetrated.
"There, Mr. Bloody Ned!" he exclaimed at last, as inspection showed that
only the outer hard shell of the leather remained intact. "That'll just
hold till the Black takes one of his cranky spells, an' you give him a
stiff pull. God help you then!" Even this was a blasphemous cry of
exultation; not a plea for divine assistance for the man he plotted
against.
His next move proved that his cunning was of an exceptional order. From
his coat pocket he brought forth a pill box. In this receptacle Shandy
dipped a forefinger, and rubbed into the fresh cut of the leather a
trifle of blackened axle grease which he had taken from a wagon wheel
before starting out. Then he wiped the rein with his coat tail and
looked at it admiringly.
"The bloke won't see that, blast him!"
He hung the bridle up in its place, put out the candle, dropped it in
his pocket and made his way from the stable.
As he passed Diablo's stall the big Black snorted again, and plunged in
affright.
"You'll get enough of that to-morror," sneered the boy. "I hope you and
Ned both break your damn necks. Fer two cents I'd drop somethin' in
your feed-box that'd settle you right now; but it's the skunk as split
on me I want to get even with.
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