"Poor Star," murmured Dave. "He was a good horse."
"While he lasted," added Pete. "But Gimp pulled him around too sudden like, I'm thinkin', t' get out of the way of an onery steer. Well, that's th' way it goes!"
And Dave, as he thought of his own new and peculiar position, wondered if that was to be his way. He was really no one now. Would he be thrust aside, and not counted as one of the family?
And yet, as he reflected on the fact that Mr. Carson had always known of their relation—or, rather their lack of relation—he would not be likely to change.
"I wonder if I'll ever find out who my parents are?" thought Dave. "I must have some folks, somewhere."
But as he recalled what had been told him—how he had been swept down the river in a great flood—the chances that he had any kin living seemed more and more remote.
But the boy was awakened out of his momentary brown study.
"Hi there!"
"Look out for that critter!"
"He's a bad one!"