“All right, Sam.”
An hour later Hale was at the livery stable for a horse to ride to Lonesome Cove, for he had sold his big black to help out expenses for the trip to England. Old Dan Harris, the stableman, stood in the door and silently he pointed to a gray horse in the barn-yard.
“You know that hoss?”
“Yes.”
“You know whut's he here fer?”
“I've heard.”
“Well, I'm lookin' fer Dave every day now.”
“Well, maybe I'd better ride Dave's horse now,” said Hale jestingly.
“I wish you would,” said old Dan.
“No,” said Hale, “if he's coming, I'll leave the horse so that he can get to me as quickly as possible. You might send me word, Uncle Dan, ahead, so that he can't waylay me.”