"I—I hope you will excuse me, Captain Fletcher," stammered Peabody, in great alarm. "I know I couldn't find the horse. I shouldn't know where to look."
"This is where he got away. You can see his trail in the grass," said Scott, a young man from Indiana. "All you will have to do will be to follow the trail, Mr. Peabody."
"I'm very near-sighted," pleaded Peabody. "I should lose my way, and never come back."
"Carrying the mustang with you? That would be a loss indeed," said John Miles pointedly. "On the whole, Captain Fletcher, we had better excuse Mr. Peabody."
"Mr. Peabody is excused," said the leader.
"Thank you," said Peabody, looking relieved. "I would go, I am sure, if I could do any good; but I know I couldn't."
"Who will volunteer?" asked Fletcher.
"Let me go," said Tom eagerly.
"You are not afraid of losing your way, Tom?" said Miles.
"No; or if I do, I will find it again."