Trixie asked Tenny as they continued on down toward the corral. He roared with laughter. “That would be a dead giveaway. All I know about roping and bulldogging and bronc-breaking I got out of books and from watching real cowboys at work.” “But you ride very well,” Trixie said. “Honey and Di and the boys told me that you ride as well as Regan.” “Who’s Regan?” Tenny asked curiously. “He’s the Wheelers’ groom,” Trixie explained. “He’s just wonderful to all of us boys and girls although I know we drive him crazy lots of times. I mean, when we’re in a hurry we’re apt to neglect the tack and not groom the horses properly. But even though Regan’s hair is as red as Jim’s he hardly ever gets really and truly mad at us.” “He must be a redheaded angel,” said Tenny with a laugh. “And I guess you could say that Howie is an angel, too. Most of the dudes try his patience sorely but he seldom gets really and truly mad. Not for long, anyway.” “You made him sound like an ogre the other night,”
