Bert Cole was pleasantly conscious of the good appearance he made as he rode over the railroad crossing and looked down upon the one important street of Snowville. Chief, his fat little sorrel saddle horse, knew how to bow his neck and show off when in town, and Bert was the proud possessor of a brand new saddle and a gorgeous green shirt. The ensemble was designed to attract public notice.
Bert himself was not vain of his personal appearance. No one had ever told him he was good looking, and he only knew that as far as appearances went he did not need to fear comparison with other men. But he rather hoped his progress down Main Street to the livery stable would gain the attention it deserved. He was aware that no Cole from King Creek had ever ridden such a good outfit into town. In Bert’
