"We'll get him, dad," spoke Will.
"I'll go over and do some cultivating until you get back," went on the boys' father. "Land sakes! But I wish it would rain!" and, with the worried look still on his face, the farmer climbed the fence and walked through the rows of corn.
Meanwhile the two brothers started on an easy run down the highway. They knew they might have a long chase after the runaway, and they wanted to save their energies.
"Suppose he runs into a carriage, or something, and gets all cut and bruised and lame, so he can't work," spoke Will.
"What's the use of supposing any such thing as that?" asked Jed. "Probably he'll run until he gets tired, and we'll find him along the road, waiting for us."
"I'm afraid something will happen," went on Will, rather gloomily. "Maybe, as dad said, the gypsies will steal him."
"Nonsense!" retorted Jed, taking a more hopeful view. "What's the use of worrying until you have to?"
"But if we lose that horse it will be a serious blow to dad. He's only got these two, and there's no money left to hire or buy another."
"How do you know?"
"I heard him and mother talking about it the other night. She asked him why he didn't hire Joe Wright's horse, to help with the cultivating, and he said he couldn't afford it."