“Mustang, eh?” asked Colonel Flesher jovially.
“Yep. A real Western. Isn’t he a beauty?”
Colonel Flesher looked at the little horse doubtfully. He pursed his lips searching for the right thing to say. The boy’s enthusiasm left no doubt as to what sort of answer was expected.
“Well, he’s a bit thin yet to be called a beauty,” he said, evading nicely.
“He may be a little thin,” admitted Jim unwillingly, “but I’ll fix that up in no time. He’s a Texas ranch horse.”
“That so?” asked the colonel, glad to be off the subject of the mustang’s appearance. “Where’d you get him?”
“Traded a gold watch for him. I made a fine deal. He’s worth a lot more than a gold watch, isn’t he?”
“Well, that all depends on the watch,” answered the stock buyer cautiously. “There are all sorts of watches you know, some cheap, some valuable.”
“I’ve never seen a watch that was worth half as much as this horse,” said Jim hotly, realizing that Colonel Flesher wasn’t too enthusiastic about Ticktock.