“Thanks, Mister,” said Jim, beginning to be overwhelmed by all his new property.
“Now I’ll tell you something,” said the old man. “There is such a thing as an honest horse trader even if people don’t think so. A trader that deals square will tell a man about any defects that he knows of inside the horse. About his wind, whether he has the heaves, and things like that. Anything that shows outside the horse, it’s up to the buyer to see. If he can’t tell what he’s buyin’, it’s his tough luck.”
“This horse looks all right to me,” said Jim, stoutly defending his new property.
“He is,” said the trader. “Since you’re a young feller and haven’t had much experience tradin’, I’d tell you if anything was wrong. This mustang hasn’t any defects we haven’t already talked about. There’s that saddle sore, the lame foreleg, he’s pretty lean, and his coat needs a lot of work. Other than that he’s sound. Now I want you to take notice of the way he holds his head. It’s kinda cockeyed. Now lots of folks would look at him and figure him to be a mean horse. He isn’t. That horse isn’t a bit mean; he’s been mistreated and he’s a little worried about whom to trust. You be good to him and he’ll be as gentle as can be.”
“He’ll like me,” said Jim confidently.
“I think he will. One other thing—that mustang is a smart critter. Horses are like people; some are just naturally dumb and others are smart. I’ve been handling the animals so long I’ve kinda got a sixth sense about ’em. Now this little feller is one of the smartest I’ve ever run across.”
Evarts untied the mustang from the end of the string and handed the rope to Jim.
“Well, he’s your horse. Good luck.”
“Good-by,” said Jim as the trader climbed back on the wagon. “That’s a good watch too.”
Jim watched the wagon, with its trailing string of horses, move off down the road. He felt a twinge of pain as he thought of his beloved watch slowly moving into the distance. Then he felt a tug on the rope he held. The horse was looking at him quizzically.