City Boy. Paul spotted him first, just a bouncin’ along, an’ a grinnin’ away like he know’d somethin’ everybody else didn’t. When he finally got to where we were a settin,’ Paul winked at me an’ ask him real straight-face, “You lost, city boy?”
“Not necessarily,” he smiled.
Bobby ask him what it was that he was ridin,’ an’ city boy said it was Kawasaki. “A whut?” Bobby said. “A Kawasaki, KE175,” city boy told him, real proud. Said it had some kinda new-fangled engine, an’ a five-speed transmission an’ all kinds’a other fanacy stuff. Said he could ride it just about anywhere he pleased, too…on the road or off – didn’t make no difference. Bobby said, “I’ll take my palomino any day, he don’t get lost.” “That’s right,” Paul said, “horses got brain. Know where they’re goin,’ even if you don’t.” City boy just grinned an’ said, “Which way’s town?”
Well, right away Paul starts ta’ pointin’ up the road, toward the bunkhouse. An’ no sonner’n he had his finger stuck out, an’ Bobby was a pointin’ up t’other way.
City boy just eyed ’em both for a minute, an’ then, with that same grin on his face, he started up his motor-sickle. First kick. Then he pulled out a map an’ handed it over ta’ Bobby an’ said straight-out, “Stick it where your brains are, cowboy…and maybe you’ll end up smart as your horse,” An’ off he rode.
Thought Paul and Bobby’s faces were gonna turn redder’n their necks. Good thing that machind didn’t stall.
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