“Look, son,” he said finally, “this is your watch, isn’t it? Not your father’s?”
“It’s mine, really mine,” said Jim in desperate eagerness to be believed. “It was given to me on my birthday.”
“How about it? Would your father and mother be mad if you traded it for a horse?”
“I don’t see why. It’s my watch,” protested Jim. The thought made him a little uneasy. He wondered if they would care. His resolution began to waver. Then he looked at the mustang and his doubts vanished. How he’d like to have that horse!
“Well,” drawled the old man slowly, “I got my doubts about how this is goin’ to set with your pa. But I know you want the horse more than you do the watch. It wouldn’t be an uneven trade either. This is a good watch but not an awful expensive one.”
“Then I can have the horse?” asked Jim in eager anticipation.
“If you’re sure that’s what you want. I hate to be the cause of any trouble though. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll be back by here in about three, four months. You tell your father that. My name’s Ned Evarts—Old Ned Evarts. In fifty years of horse tradin’ no one has ever accused me of tellin’ a lie. When I come back I’ll still have the watch. If you’re not satisfied with the horse, we’ll trade back.”
“That sounds fair,” said Jim judiciously.
The trader reached inside the wagon and pulled out a bridle.
“Here’s the bridle I got with the horse,” he said, climbing down from the wagon. “You’ll need a bridle, so I’ll throw that in. Now the horse has on a rope halter. It doesn’t look like much but it’s sturdy. You can have that too if you want.”