Mr. Savage began his preparations to go to the village after the old family pain-killer, a mixture that had been used by himself and his relatives as far back as he could remember. It was taken for almost every thing, as few people care to call in a doctor every time they feel ill.
“You’ll have t’ go over t’ Pokeville t’night, Dan,” said the farmer, as he was driving to the village, and he explained the reason. “Ye kin go hoss back, an’ that’ll be quicker,” he added.
“It will take nearly all night to go there and return, Mr. Savage.”
“Wa’al, I can’t help it. Ye ought t’ be back here by five o’clock, an’ ye kin git an hour’s sleep, an’ start in t’ work. Boys don’t need much rest.”
“No, nor not much else, if you had your way,” thought Dan. “Oh, I’ve a good notion to run away, only I don’t know where to run to. I must see Mr. Harrison, and ask his advice,” and, pondering over his hard lot, Dan continued to hoe the potatoes.
CHAPTER VIII
A MIDNIGHT RIDE
Mr. Savage took his time in going to the village, and did not come back until after the dinner hour.
“Did ye git th’ medicine?” asked Mrs. Savage of her husband.
“Yep, an’ it cost a dollar.”
“Tell Dan t’ ask yer sister fer it ’fore he delivers th’ bottle,” advised the farmer’s wife.