A FOUR MILE CHASE.—PAGE 234.
As soon as the landlord returned to where I was, he showed considerable anxiety and nervousness, which convinced me more than ever that I was correct in my surmises.
He talked but little, on our way to the hotel. When we arrived there his wife came out and had a private talk with him, I then said:
"Well, landlord, we will allow you one dollar for the carriage repairs and you can have it done yourself."
At that I reached out for the halter-strap, to take possession of the colt.
"Well, see here," said he, excitedly, "there is something wrong. Two men have been here looking for you."
"Where are they?" I asked.
"Well," said he, "they have no doubt gone one mile too far west, in trying to get to my father's farm, and have missed us."
I stepped to the middle of the road, and looking west, saw in the distance a team with two men coming. I called for Frank to hitch up again, at once, fully realizing the uselessness of trying to take the colt and leave the buggy, and that there was no time to argue or explain matters to the satisfaction of the landlord.
When I had paid our hotel bill, and gotten the valise containing our shirts—(which we clung to with a bull-dog tenacity, owing to our late shirtless experience)—I hurried to the barn, where I found Frank had the horse between the shafts, and we hitched him up in a space of time that would have done credit to an expert Fire-engine Company.