“Will you race?” asked Carl.
“Yes, we’ll race.”
“Then all in line,” said Louis. “One, two, three, and off!”
Great rivalry had always existed between the boys, and once started they strained every muscle to call forth speed. Before his trip into the interior Harvey had never been able to keep up with his brother and chum; but that journey had toughened him greatly, made him more agile, and this evening he surprised the other two by taking the lead and keeping it. So intent were all three, that they never looked around until the house was reached, nor even then, for Harvey dashed in at the front door, the others after him, and all sat down on the steps, panting and out of breath.
“Well, that’s the jolliest sprint we’ve had for a long time,” said Louis, when he had recovered sufficiently to form the words.
“I believe it is the first time we have tried to see who could beat since we used to run from Chucuito to La Punta in the old days of the Rowing Club,” replied Carl. “And say, Louis, what do you think of your young brother here? Beating us square and fair by three feet or more in a three hundred yard dash!”
“Sh!” exclaimed the boy whom they were complimenting. “Listen! What’s the row in the yard? And, Louis, mother is screaming, calling out, or something. Come on! Come on, Carl!”
They needed no urging, but dashed up the stairs, two and three steps at a time, then through the house to the rear balcony, which overlooked a large court. There they met Mrs. Dartmoor, who was crying hysterically.
“What’s the matter, mother?” asked Louis and Harvey, at the same instant.
“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “There was a noise in the stables and your father went down. I heard some terrible sounds, and then he called for Carl’s father and Señor Cisneros. They were already on the way to him, and the three must have had an encounter with some one. It seemed as if all the horses had been turned loose. Oh, I don’t know what has happened!”