By an indirect route they came to the common over which Paul had ridden on Falcon. They stopped at the spot where Zuker and his confederate had seized Falcon's bridle. Then they turned back, and paused once more where the brave horse had staggered and fallen. Paul had not seen the place since, and as they reached it, he lived once again through the incidents of those few terrible moments when the life-blood of Falcon was slowly oozing away. He could see it lying there; he could see the crimson stream running from its flank, the look of pathos in its eyes as it turned to him.
"I think we will drive on," said Mr. Moncrief gently. "We owe a good deal to Falcon, so I mean to have a little memorial to his memory some day—to the memory of a noble horse. There are some animals, it seems to me, who are as much entitled to it as human beings."
A great surprise was in store for them when they reached the well down which Paul had hidden from his pursuers. Wyndham was standing there, just as he had stood on the night when he had covered Paul's retreat!
Then it turned out that Mr. Moncrief had arranged this little surprise on the previous day; that he had visited Wyndham, and appointed to meet him at the well. To the delight of the boys, the arrangement went still further—Wyndham was to return with them, and spend a few days at Redmead.
Stanley was one of the first to give him a hearty greeting.
"You must be my friend as well as Paul's," he said earnestly, as he shook him by the hand.
"There's no one, I suppose, who would like to repeat Paul's experience in the well?" smiled Mr. Moncrief, when the excitement of the meeting had cooled down.
The invitation, it is unnecessary to say, was "declined with thanks."
The happy party returned to Redmead. When the evening came on, the blinds drawn, the lamps lit, and the friends were all together, Paul could not help thinking there was just one thing missing to complete the day's experience.
"When I came here that night and listened at the door, you were singing," he said.