As the stranger said this, he sprang upon Ned’s horse, looked behind him once more as if to make sure that there was no one following him, and then waved his hand to the boy and galloped away. Ned stood looking first at him and then at his new horse, fully expecting to see the man turn about and come back to trade over again. But he did nothing of the kind. He kept straight ahead (Ned had no idea that his old horse could travel as fast as he did), turning in his saddle now and then to look behind him, and at last he disappeared over a swell. Then Ned, with a long breath of relief, turned to give his new horse another good looking over. The animal’s name—Silk Stocking—suited him exactly. His color was a very dark chestnut; but his mane and tail were as white as snow, and so were his feet and his legs, too, as high up as his knees, and he had a white star in his forehead. The longer his delighted owner looked at him the handsomer he seemed to grow. “That man, whoever he may be, is a born dunce,” was Ned’s mental comment. “He says he knows a good horse when he sees one, but I don’t believe it. Why, I know more than he does. I’d never trade a horse like this for an old crowbait like mine. I’d take a day longer for my journey, no matter how great the hurry I might be in.” Ned chuckling to himself over his good fortune, fastened his horse to a swinging branch of the oak, and proceeded to bundle up his blanket and poncho which he tied behind his saddle. While he was pulling up the picket-pin and curling his lasso, a startling suspicion suddenly sprung up in his mind. He stopped his work and looked at his horse and then at the ridge over which he had seen the stranger disappear. “I wonder why I didn’t think of that before!” said Ned, to himself. “He was very careful to inquire if I owned the horse I traded to him, but it never occurred to me to ask him how he came by this one. Well, I don’t know that it makes so very much difference after all,” he added, after a moment’s reflection. “If he stole the horse—and if he didn’t steal him why was he so anxious to trade?—he could have told a lie about it very easily, and no doubt he would.” Ned was not at all pleased with the thought, which now kept forcing itself upon him, that perhaps he had not made so fine a bargain after all. If the horse was a stolen one, and the lawful owner should succeed in tracing him, he could demand his property, and Ned would have to give it up. This was something he did not want to do. He had already taken a great liking to his new horse, and could not bear the thought of parting with him.