“I wonder if he takes me for an Indian or a Greaser!” thought Ned, and to show the horseman that he was neither, he picked up his sombrero, which lay beside him on his blanket, and waved it over his head. The horseman saw the motion and must have taken it for a friendly one, for he once more put his horse into a gallop and came toward the swell. He rode up within a few feet of Ned before he stopped again, and the two took a good look at each other before either of them spoke. The newcomer was a stranger in that part of the country; Ned knew that the instant he put his eyes on him. He was a gentleman, if clothes make the gentleman, and was the first one Ned, had seen in long months. He was dressed in broadcloth, wore fine boots on his feet, rings on his fingers and a breastpin in his white shirt-front. He was a good-looking man, too, and rode a horse that attracted Ned’s attention at once. He was a perfect beauty—slender and clean-limbed, with a long, arching neck, well-shaped head and flowing mane and tail, and although his sides were heaving and his glossy breast was flecked with the foam that had flown from his month during the long and rapid journey he had evidently made, his eye was bright, and the tight rein his rider was obliged to keep upon him showed that there was plenty of spirit left in him. The saddle and bridle he wore were made after the Mexican pattern, and were both gaudily ornamented. “How do you do, sir?” said the stranger, after he had looked at Ned and run his eye over the boy’s horse, which had advanced to meet him as far as the length of his lariat would permit. “Can you tell me whereabouts in the world I am—I mean how far from the Rio Grande?” “Yes, sir; you will have to ride twenty-five miles in a straight line to reach it,” replied Ned. “By the trail, which leads to the nearest ford, and takes in all the ranches, it is more than twice as far.” “Twenty-five miles!” repeated the stranger, turning about in his saddle and looking back over the way he had come. “That’s a long pull for a tired horse!” “Hadn’t you better stop and take a rest?” asked Ned, who had learned how to be hospitable since he came to Texas. “My father’s rancho is only five miles from here, and every house is a hotel in this country.” “I am obliged to you, but I can’t stop,” replied the stranger, quickly. “I am in a great hurry. I must take the straightest course for the river, and I don’t want to go by any ranchos. When night overtakes me I can camp on the prairie. I am used to it. But I wish I had a fresh horse: How will you trade?” “Trade!” cried Ned, jumping to his feet, and looking first at the stranger’s fine animal and then at his own homely beast. “I’ll trade; but you’ll have to go home with me to get the boot you want.” “I can’t stop for that, and besides, I may not ask any boot. All I want is a fresh horse and a fast one.”