"I don't see anything to suggest a pursuing dog," Prescott made answer. "If the dog is near, he must be running under the trees along the side of the road."
Greg climbed up beside his leader.
"Why, that man has stopped whipping the horse," young Holmes declared. "And is lighting his pipe. That doesn't look as though he were very much scared about anything."
"We'll stay where we are until we've talked with the man," Dick decided.
Just before reaching the other end of the covered bridge the driver, a farmer, and with what looked like a light load of farm produce in the body of the wagon, slowed his horse down to a walk, at which gait he drove over the bridge. Then, sighting the boys up in the trees, and each with a club, he reined up.
"Hello, boys!" he called drawlingly. "Who's been a-chasing you?
What scared you?"
"Read that notice, sir, tacked up at the bridge entrance," urged
Dick.
Alighting, and drawing a pair of spectacles from a vest pocket, the farmer complied.
"Mad dog, eh?" he drawled. "Sho!"
"Did you see anything of the brute?" called Darry.