Jim led his horse out to the barn where he had his stall prepared. He wanted to be alone with the pony for a few minutes. Tears of happiness were welling up in his eyes—tears that he preferred no one see.
The following week Jim started to school. Ticktock progressed rapidly and six weeks later was grazing contentedly in the orchard. He wondered impatiently why Jim had not ridden him for so long, but otherwise he was content. One day Mr. Meadows had just taken a reassuring look at the mustang and was crossing the yard toward the house when Ticktock raised his head and, looking down the road, whinnied. Mr. Meadows followed the horse’s gaze with idle curiosity at first, and then stared in frank puzzlement. Coming up the road was an odd-looking wagon followed by a long string of horses. Had Jim been home, or Ticktock able to talk they could have told Mr. Meadows that the old man on the driver’s seat was Ned Evarts, the horse trader, but as it was, the farmer had to figure out the mystery by himself. The strange procession came on up the road and turned without hesitation into the lane. Mr. Meadows stared curiously at the sombreroed driver and the odd assortment of horses. Due to the initial resentment at Jim’s having traded the gold watch for Ticktock, the horse trader and his unusual cavalcade had never been discussed much by Jim and his father. It was only as the wagon stopped and the driver climbed down that Mr. Meadows began to suspect the identity of his visitor.
“My name’s Evarts,” said the old man, introducing himself. “Are you Meadows?”
“That’s right,” said Carl Meadows, shaking hands with Evarts.
“Last spring I swapped your son a horse. Still got him?”
“Sure have. He’s over there in the orchard,” replied Jim’s father.
“Yep, that’s him all right,” said the horse trader, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand while he looked at Ticktock. “He’s lookin’ much better than when I saw him last.”
“He’s been getting good care,” said Carl Meadows, grinning. “In fact he’s practically been fed with a spoon lately.”
“When I traded with your boy I was a bit doubtful about the deal, as he gave me a gold watch for the horse,” said Evarts. “I asked him if he was sure it was all right, and he reckoned it was. Some days later I happened to take the watch apart again and I noticed that engravin’ on the back. While I ain’t doubtin’ that the watch belonged to your son, I figured you might set a big store by it, seein’ it’s been in the family so long. Anyhow I held onto it and if you’re a mind to trade back, I still have the watch.”
“I’ve been wrong on so many counts concerning that horse it’s getting kinda monotonous,” said Mr. Meadows almost to himself.