Who stole my horse?

The local folks in Breaux Bridge always had a habit of picking on
strangers, which Thibodeaux was. When Thibodeaux had finished his
drink in the bar he found his horse that had been tied outside, had
been stolen.

He went back into the bar, handily flipped his 44 gun into the air,
caught it above his head without looking and fired a shot into the
ceiling. "Wich one a you don stole my horse, han ?" he yelled with
forcefulness.

No one answered.

"Awright, me I'm gonna have anothr beer, and if dat horse ain't back
outside by de time I finish, I'm gonna do what I dun in Texas. And
me, I don like to have to do what I dun in Texas!" said Thibodeaux.

Some of the locals shifted restlessly. But, Thibodeaux, true to his
word, had another beer, then slowly walked outside to find that his
horse had been returned to the post.

He saddled up and prepared to ride out of town. The bartender,
Fontenot, wandered out of the bar and asked, "Say partner, before
you go, how ‘bout tellin’ me what happened in Texas”

Thibodeaux turned back and said "Me, I had to walk home."