Mr. Chatford stopped at the house, and Jack ran to help him take out some bundles. Then the deacon drove on to the barn, and Jack hurried after him. Still not a word about the half-dollar.
“You can go into the house; I’ll take care of Dolly,” said Jack.
“I’ll help; ’t won’t take but a minute,” said Mr. Chatford. “I’ve got bad news for you.”
“Have you?” said Jack, with sudden faintness of heart. “What?”
“For you and Lion,” added the deacon. “Duffer’s got another dog. He made his brags of him to-night. Said he could whip any dog in seven counties.”
“He’d better not let him tackle Lion!” said Jack.
“I told him I hoped he wouldn’t kill sheep, as his other dog did. Take her out of the shafts; we’ll run the buggy in by hand.”
The broad door of the horse-barn stood open. Jack led the mare up into the bright square of moonshine which lay on the dusty floor. There the harness was quickly taken off. Not a word yet concerning the half-dollar, which Jack was ashamed to appear anxious about, and which he began to think Mr. Chatford, with characteristic absent-mindedness, had forgotten.
“By the way, I’ve good news for you!” suddenly exclaimed the deacon.
Jack’s heart bounded. “Have you?”