“Hurt?” inquired Bart.
“No, but it’s a sign of bad luck, and I don’t like it, especially when you fellows are going off on a pleasure trip.”
“What are you going to do?” Frank wanted to know, for Jed was kicking away the snow in front of the horses.
“I’m looking for a black stone,” he explained. “If you can find a black stone, after a horse stumbles like that, it’s all right.”
The boys wanted to laugh at the almost childish superstition exhibited by Jed, but did not want to make him feel bad, so they managed to keep sober faces, as he kicked about in the small drifts. Finally he uttered a triumphant cry.
“I’ve found it!” he announced, as he pocketed a small black stone. “Now it will be all right. Gid-dap, ponies,” and the horses started off again, utterly indifferent to signs of all kinds.
The four chums talked of nothing but camp on the way to the station, and, as for Jed, he was so occupied in watching for signs and omens, good and bad, that he was not a brilliant conversationalist. Just as they approached the depot the driver pulled sharply to the right, turned out of the main road, and urged his horses in a circle around the standpipe of the water tank that supplied the locomotive tenders. Then he swung the team up to the platform.
“Why did you do that?” asked Ned, in curiosity.
“For good luck,” replied Jed. “Nothing better for good luck than going around in a circle just before you start off on a journey. It’s sure to bring you back safe, and I want to see you lads again.”
“How do you make it out that a circle will bring any one back safe?” inquired Frank.