“No doubt he will increase in weight, and maybe a bit in height,” Master Morgan agreed. “His Arabian ancestry would account for his size. Not that I am one of those foolish persons who considers size necessary for _perfection_,” he hastily added. “Since I have seen him I am willing to take him in place of the twenty-five dollars you owe me, though twenty-five dollars is a large sum, and I am a poor man. Shall we call it settled?” For a moment True thought his old master would surely have one of his spells of faintness, but when he finally spoke his voice was brave and steady. “The pony,” he said, gently, “will be ready for you in the morning.” He rested his arm across True’s neck, while the stranger looked away for a moment. “This little horse,” Silas continued, after a pause, having recovered himself, “has been to me what the ‘steed of the desert’ is to his Arab master. When I part with him I give you the best friendship I ever had; the best work of three years, spent in training and developing the intelligence of this remarkable horse. And, mark you, he will live to bear out the confidence I have in him. I have ever treated him as a human being; I have romped with him, played with him, talked to him as I might have talked to a child--if Providence had blessed my wife and me with such a treasure--but I have ever insisted upon _obedience_ and _respect_, as a father should insist upon these qualities from a child.” “As I insist upon in mine,” acquiesced Master Morgan, as Silas hesitated a moment, feeling he was perhaps saying too much. “There is but one thing more I would add,” went on Silas, feeling a friendly sympathy from Master Morgan. “Be good to him and he will be faithful to you, teach him to love you and his willing service will be to you and yours until the end. He does not know what falter means, and if you are wise you will never let him find out by asking him to do impossible things. Ask of him only that which is within his power and he will never fail you.” Kind-hearted Master Morgan grasped Whitman’s hand. “I shall not forget,” he said, deeply touched. That night Caesar climbed on the rack of True’s stall and dropped lightly down on the horse’s back, where he purred an undying affection and sorrow at his friend’s approaching departure. Hoping to cheer him a little, the cat told many anecdotes of other stables and barns which he suggested True might some time visit, but the heavy sadness could not be lifted from their hearts. Gipsey gave him advice, and at midnight Master Whitman came to see if all were well with his pet. At cock-crow Mistress Whitman appeared with a most delicious breakfast as a parting favor. Silas had just finished rubbing the young horse down when his new owner came, bringing his own saddle and bridle--and very easy and comfortable they were, too.