Midnight slid to a halt before the cabin and called loudly. He advanced toward the door shaking his head and snorting, his eyes rolling wildly.
The door of the cabin hung open. A blue-white wreath of smoke curled out and up into the air, then old Sam stepped through the doorway. He stood for a moment steadying himself, one hand against the casing, then he shuffled outside and sank down on the ancient willow chair. As he seated himself he dug into a pocket of his worn jacket and brought out a handful of dingy lump sugar.
“No human critter could of got me outside today the way my rheumatiz joints is shoutin’ fer a storm,” he said.
He held out one hand with two lumps of sugar in it. The black stallion edged closer, his legs trembling, his nostrils flaring eagerly. The pinto filly crowded ahead of him and her pink nose deftly whisked the sugar out of Sam’s palm. Old Sam chuckled as he placed two more lumps in his palm.
“Lady, you act plumb scandalous fer a wild hoss,” he said.
Midnight had edged close now. He gathered up the two lumps and crunched them eagerly. Even after weeks of coaxing and tempting Sam had not quieted all the fears in the heart of the stallion. Sam doled out the sweets slowly, making them last as long as possible. When they were gone he got to his feet, and picked up a tin pail beside the door. Walking to a bare spot of ground near the corner of the cabin he poured out a liberal measure of oats.
Midnight stood watching, ready to charge away. The pinto shouldered up close to Sam, letting him run his hand along her neck. Watching her gather up the oats was too much for the black; he crowded in to get his share, but not until Sam had backed away.
Midnight and the pinto gathered up every grain of oats, then they trotted out into the meadow and began feeding. Sam filled his pipe and settled back to let the sun warm his joints. He was glad his visitors had routed him out. The sun was really fine. After a few minutes of its warmth he began thinking about walking down to the new prospect hole he had dug at the base of the castle rocks. He chuckled to himself as he thought about it but he did not move. He was remembering how he had written to Tex asking him to dig a hole on that very spot. He wondered what Tex would have done if he had dug that hole and then discovered he had uncovered a vein of gold-bearing quartz. Sam had a feeling Tex would have dug a buryin’ hole and let it go at that. That was what he thought of Tex.