Page:Saga of Billy the Kid.djvu/266

and, pulling the chains taut up along his legs, fastened the strings to his belt. The movements of both hands and legs were now unencumbered.

Back of the courthouse was a two-acre pasture under fence. In it a black horse was cropping grass along the irrigating ditch near the foot of the south wall of the cañon.

"That Pat Garrett's pony?" asked the Kid.

"No, it's Billy Burt's, the county clerk."

"Wish it was Garrett's. It'd tickle me to ride away on old Pat's horse. But go catch him and bring him here."

Goss with a bridle in his hand went out into the pasture to catch the horse. The pony was young and mettlesome and moreover was enjoying his banquet of grass along the asequia. Goss was old and somewhat doddering, and catching a spirited horse that did not wish to be caught in a two acre pasture was no easy task. Dodging about on his ancient legs, Goss hemmed the pony in one corner and then hemmed him in another and always the horse, snorting, head and tail in air, broke away and went galloping to another part of the field. Meantime, the Kid lounged in the courtyard with unperturbed patience, rolling cigarettes and whiffing them in leisurely fashion, the body of the man he had killed within a few feet of him.

Goss's chase of the black pony wasted more than an hour. Finally the horse grew tired of the pastime and submitted to the bridle. Goss led him in and cinched a saddle on him. The old man was fearfully apologetic.

"You seen how the darn critter acted," he explained. "I done my best, but I couldn't ketch him no quicker."

"Oh, that's all right," returned the Kid easily.

Through the pasture gate at the northwest corner of the