“Now which of those young devils of colts has escaped?” was his query, as he hastily donned his clothes, and started down stairs.
But that neigh had been heard by others also, and as the Admiral reached the end of the hall Mrs. Ashby came from her bedroom arrayed in bath robe and bed slippers.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The Lord only knows. One of those confounded colts broken loose I dare say, and if it is I’ll crack Uncle Abel’s head for him,” and away he hurried.
But Uncle Abel, who possessed six instead of five senses, the sixth being “horse sense” had heard that neigh, too, and the ceremony of his robing requiring less time than the Admiral’s, he was already speeding toward that sound as fast as his old legs would carry him. As he turned the corner of the house he was welcomed by a most jubilant neigh, and the next second had reached the steaming Apache, and exclaiming:
“Ma Lawd-Gawd-A’mighty, what done happen! Is dat yo’, Miss Bev’ly? Baby! Honey! Is yo’ daid?” for a rigid, unconscious little figure was leaning forward with her arms clasped tightly around the panting horse’s neck.
Quicker than it takes to tell it Abel had unclasped the clinging arms and was tenderly lifting her from the horse’s back. At that moment the Admiral burst through the big front door and came striding across the lawn, storming at each step:
“You Abel! You old fool! How did that horse break loose? How——My God! Who is that?” for he was now near enough to see the three figures and to hear Abel’s sobs which punctuated his words as he held the helpless little figure in his arms.
“What is it? What has happened?”
“Gawd only knows, Mars Athol. But he’p me wid dis chile quick please sur. She lak ter die ef we don’ do some’n.”