“Ha!” said he, without moving a muscle of his face, “that is sensible! Oh, Saint Nicholas,” he thought, “won’t I crow over that Paul Swedlepipe after this!” Then he added aloud: “How many men do you leave with us?” “Five. You won’t need many, as our expedition must be kept secret. Mind that, and don’t blab.” Ten Eyck nodded his head vigorously, and the captain came to the principal object of the visit. “You bought a horse yesterday?” “Yaw,” said he. “What did you give for him?” “One hundred and fifty guilders.” “Ah; the price is large. I want to see the horse. If he is good, I will give you a hundred and fifty.” “I sells him den. I puys him,” he went on, now using broken English, as it was more in sympathy with the subject, “vor fear Paul Swedlepipe get him. Coom over unt see him.” The two men followed to the place where the beast had spent the night. The reader will remember that a tremendous rain had fallen during the night. The horse had been shut up in a sort of corral of rails which, however, afforded little shelter. To describe the puffed-up and vainglorious manner in which Ten Eyck approached the corral, would be in vain. He seemed to grow taller, and his head was thrown back to such a fearful extent that there seemed to be immediate danger of his falling over on his back. Those familiar with the ballad which some years since was the delight of the youngsters of this country and of Merry England, “Lord Bateman,” will remember the engraving representing that individual. Mynheer Ten Eyck, approaching the corral, was his exact representative. Mentally, he was crowing over his enemy at every step. They entered the corral by a bar which was set in holes in two posts, set upright, about eight feet apart. Ten Eyck put up the bar, lest the spirited beast should attempt to escape. Where was he? There, shivering in one corner of the corral, was a strange animal, without tail or teeth, for he had dropped them both in the night; a hide streaked here and there with marks of the coloring-substance which Boston had used in the metamorphosis; with drooping head and dejected looks generally. Ten Eyck took in all at a glance. Sold! fearfully and irrecoverably by the Yankee, aided and abetted by Paul Swedlepipe! “Where is your horse?” asked the captain. “Not this, I hope!” “You have been cheated again,” cried Van Curter.