“I should think not,” said Katherine indignantly. “Why, he walked most of the way.”
“Wall, remember that there trap’s very heavy,” said the ferryman solemnly, as he shoved off.
Beyond the river the hills began. The “beastie” trailed slowly up them. Several times Roberta pulled him out to the side of the road to let more ambitious animals pass him.
“Do you suppose he’s really tired?” she whispered to Betty, as they approached a particularly steep pitch. “He might back down.”
“Girls,” said Betty hastily, “I’m sick of sitting still, so I’m going to walk up this next hill. Any of you want to come?”
Relieved of his four passengers the horse still hung his head and lifted each clumsy foot with an effort.
“Oh, Roberta, there’s a watering trough up here,” called Betty from the top of the hill. “I’m sure that’ll revive him.”
By their united efforts they got the “beastie” up to the trough, which was most inconveniently located on a steep bank beside the road; and while Betty and Alice kept the back wheels of the trap level, Katherine unfastened the check-rein. To her horror, as the check dropped the bits came out of the horse’s mouth.
“How funny,” said Alice, “just like everything up here. Did you ever see a harness like that, Betty?” Betty left her post at the hind wheel and came around to investigate.
“Why he has two bits,” she said. “Of course he couldn’t go, poor creature. And see how thirsty he is!”