Retraining his vexation at this bit of insolence, Rob said, in an even tone:
“As you seem to know, I wish you would tell me, so as to save me further trouble.”
“I reckon they are down to the county farm by this time, seeing Bagley has got a good hoss, and he wouldn’t be likely to let any grass grow in the road with sich company,” which speech was greeted by a cheer from the spectators.
At a loss to act under the oppression of such an announcement, Rob was silent. Then a commotion a short distance away caught the attention of all. A newcomer was saying:
“A part of the children have got home, but the doctor’s girl and boy, with two others, went over on Sander’s hill and have not been seen since two o’clock. Some see them tigers up that way, so the doctor and his family are scared to death over the children.”
“Come on, boys,” called out one of the spectators, “we must hunt ’em up. Get your guns and come on.”
In a moment Rob learned that all this excitement was occasioned by the escape of a couple of tigers from a menagerie the day before, the animals having been seen in that vicinity within a few hours. The danger to the missing children was apparent to every one. If they had not already met the ferocious beasts they were likely to do so at any moment.
But Rob felt that he had as much trouble on hand as he could meet at present, and after satisfying himself that Chick and Ruddy had actually been taken to the county farm, he started homeward with a heavy heart.
About half a mile out of the village, where the road entered the woods at the foot of Break o’ Day hill, he was startled at first by the wild, incoherent cries of a man, who seemed to be running toward him at a furious gait.
He had only to wait a moment before the frightened person burst into sight, hatless and coatless, his face as white as a sheet, where he came down the road running for dear life.