"Bad case, too." "A veterinary can cure that," Fred declared, speaking more airily than his feelings warranted.
"Hm!" replied Flannery dryly.

"You find the veterinary, Master Fred, and I'll show the gentleman how to make his fortune if he can cure wind-broken horses." "Then what good is the pony ?" demanded Fred in exasperation.
"Well, the hide ought to fetch three dollars, and there are a good many pounds of soap fat in him," replied Flannery slowly.
"And is that all the good there is in this pony ?" cried Ripley.
He felt like screaming.
"It's all the good I can see in him, sir," replied Flannery.
"Then I won't take this pony," young Ripley declared, flushing hotly.

"It's a downright swindle.

Here, my man, hand my money back and take your old soap box." "Not to-day," declared the auctioneer briefly.

He and his clerk were now preparing to depart.
"You'd better!" warned Fred.
"I won't." "Then I'll have you arrested." "Try it." "Run and get a policeman," Fred ordered, turning to a crowd of small boys.
"All right," smiled the auctioneer.