"That is mine, oh, that is mine!" cried the woodman, springing up joyously and taking his ax from the stranger. "Now we shall not starve. Thank you, kind sir. Where did you find it?"
The stranger said, "All three of the axes are yours. I am glad to make you a present of the gold ax and the silver ax. Let me have your hand. I am happy to meet an honest man."
The woodman's neighbors heard of his good fortune. One of them lost his ax. He appeared to feel very sad over his loss. He sat down by the roadside and bowed his head, looking out of the corners of his eyes for the stranger.
At last he saw the stranger coming around a bend in the road. The sun shown upon a gold ax which he carried in his hand. He stopped in front of the woodman. "Why do you grieve, my friend?" he asked.
"I have lost my ax with which I earned my living," the woodman replied.
"Cheer up," said the stranger. "I have an ax here. Is it yours?"
"That is the very one," said the woodman. "Thank you, stranger," and he reached out his hand to take the gold ax.
But the stranger drew back, and put the ax behind him. "It is not your ax. It is my own, and you wish to claim it. You are both dishonest and untruthful;" and he turned away.