"You had better not worry your head too much about this affair, Mr. Powell," said Dr. Havens. "That crack on the head might have been more serious, but at the same time you ought to take care of yourself for a day or two at least."
"Then you don't think I ought to go to Mr. Sanderson's?" queried the would-be poet of the college.
"Not just yet. If you feel stronger you might go there to-morrow, or the day after."
"Then will you go, Sam, and try to explain matters?" questioned Songbird, eagerly.
"Of course I'll go, Songbird."
"And I'll go with him," added Spud.
A large sleigh had been brought to the farmhouse by Dr. Wallington, and Songbird was placed in this and made as comfortable as possible among the robes and blankets which it contained. Mr. Bray, the owner of the farm, had been up in the timber bringing down some firewood, and now, when he approached, the others saw that he had tied behind his sled an extra horse.
"Hello! Where did that horse come from?" cried Sam. "Is it yours?"
"No, 'tain't mine," said Timothy Bray. "I found it up in the woods right near the road yonder," and he pointed with his hand as he spoke.
"Found that horse in the woods!" cried Spud. "Then that explains it."