CHAPTER III
A FRUITLESS SEARCH
“B’ys! b’ys! Are ye after bein’ hurted?”
It was Andy Dugan who asked the question, as he came rushing to Joe and Harry’s assistance and helped to set them on their feet.
“I—I guess I’m all right, Mr. Dugan,” panted Harry. “But I—I thought my neck was broken at first!”
“So did I,” put in Joe. His left hand was scratched but otherwise he was unharmed.
“Oh, father, the mare’s run away!” chimed in Teddy Dugan. “We won’t never git her back anymore!”
“Hould yer tongue!” answered the parent. “She’ll come back as soon as it’s feedin’ time, don’t worry.”
“Oh, father, are you sure?”
“To be course I am. Didn’t she run away twice before, an’ come back that same way, Teddy? Come on after thim tramps an’ let the mare take care av hersilf.”
“We’ve made noise enough to bring the tramps out—if they’re still in the barn,” was Joe’s comment. “I believe they’ve gone.”