“I think not,” came the ready response.
“Ponies again?” queried the pilot, as he steadied the quivering biplane by a little movement that had become second nature with both young aviators; just as a boy rider on a bicycle unconsciously bends his body at just the proper angle when about to whirl around a curve in the road.
“Yes,” the other replied.
“And riders too, this time, I hope?” Frank went on.
“I’m dead sure of it, because there are two horses, and they’re running along side by side, Frank.”
“That looks more like it; and I want to say it’s about time we struck some good warm scent about now. That Jose had been going at a mad pace ever since the start, and the poor little girl, how I pity her, Andy.”
“But however in the wide world d’ye suppose she could stick on a pony through it all?” the boy with the glasses asked, wonder in his voice, as he continued to keep watch upon the far distant moving objects which he had discovered, thanks to the magnifying qualities of the powerful lens.
“Oh! there’s only one answer to that, my boy,” answered Frank. “Jose must have tied her to the pony. And even at that I feel mighty sorry for the little thing, for it must have been a terrible run, all these hours.”
“The inhuman scoundrel!” growled Andy, almost savagely. “I’d just like to see him get what’s coming to him, if the boys ever lay hands on him.”
“Well,” observed Frank, “I wouldn’t say that, until we find out how Becky’s stood the long ride. If he’s been cruel to her besides, then I’d be inclined to say what you did; but there’s always the chance that the man really wants to have possession of his own child; for he’s her father, we’ve got to remember.”