Mr. St. Ives gave Merry a quick look, as if wondering what he knew about horses.
“I think you are right, young man,” he said. “I didn’t want to let him have Firefoot, but he seemed to take a fancy to the creature, and not another horse out of the stableful would satisfy him. He’ll not get the animal again.”
Then there was a mounting of horses, while Frank went back along the road to look for his wheel He found the bicycle all right as it lay beside the road, Barney having stopped to get it out of the highway.
The Irish lad accompanied Frank, and he was enthusiastic over the prospect of sport at Springbrook Farm.
“It’s no tellin’ pwhat we’ll stroike there, me b’y!” he chuckled. “It’s the last chance for a bit av fun before we get inther New York.”
“I didn’t intend to stop again for anything, for we spent far too much time at Blue Cove. Virginia was not easy to break away from.”
“Roight ye are, Frankie. It’s a great Shtate Vir-ginny do be. An’ the b’ys down there are all roight.”
“As fine a set of fellows as I have met anywhere in the whole country,” declared Merry, with a touch of enthusiasm. “They are chivalrous, hospitable and sporty. Jack Diamond is a representative Virginian. He is all right.”
“Yis, he seems to be since he got back inther this parrut av th’ country, but it’s a growler Oi thought he wur at firrust.”
“He did not seem like himself while we were in the West,” confessed Frank. “I was surprised at the change in him, but I knew it was not natural, and I bore with him.”