“This is patently ridiculous. That bounty had nothing to do wi—” The harsh voice of the sea-green pony seated behind the desk before him cut off abruptly, his wrinkled face going slack as his eyes widened and his mouth gawped, head tilted up as Handy calmly walked in right up to the desk before him. The pony was identical to the one in the photograph, if only a little older. His mane was brilliantly white, and the smoking pipe lay upon a holder on the wooden desk, a flat cap perched between his ears.