"But—but my hosses?" he gasped.
Just then the sound of wheels fell on his ears, and both men faced about. Mr. Gavel made sure that this must be old Holly with his wagon. But no; there came around the corner a cart with a single horse, driven by a lad; and the lad, pulling up before the store, went in, and in less than a minute reappeared staggering under a heavy burden.
"But, Hallo!" cried Mr. Gavel, pulling himself together, and striding towards the cart. "It is—" he began incredulously; but after a second look raised his voice in triumphant recognition and demand. "My hosses! What are you doing with my hosses?"
"Yours, be they?" the lad answered. "Well, I'm takin' 'em to Henley, as you sent word."
"I sent word?" echoed Mr. Gavel.
"Somebody sent word," the lad persisted. "An' in the devil of a 'urry, 'cordin' to the child what brought it. But, as I said to mother, where's the sense in sendin' messages by children?"
"Children?"
"There was two on 'em—a boy an' a girl—"
"Ah!" interrupted Dr. Glasson. "Describe them, please."
The lad scratched his head.