“Whoa!” he cried. But Mistah Mule paid no heed to that order. Seizing the bit between his teeth, he broke into a smart trot.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Johnnie yelled as he tugged at the reins.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Mistah Mule chuckled, as he went all the faster.
Meanwhile Farmer Green urged the bay up the hill. Just as they reached the top he brought the bay’s nose even with the rear wheels of Johnnie’s wagon.
“Stop him, Johnnie! Stop him!” he called.
“I—I—I can’t!” Johnnie answered as the wagon jolted over the stones.
Then his father tried to pass Johnnie, hoping to head off Mistah Mule.
But Mistah Mule would have none of that. He stretched his neck out and tore down the hill like a trotter at the county fair. In a few moments he had left the bay and Farmer Green far behind.
“Huh!” he grunted. “Thinks they kin pass me, does they?”