“It’s only a horse!” cried Mr. Bobbsey. “A wandering horse. It has been crashing its way through the underbrush, and now it has come to see what we are doing here, I suppose.”
“Oh! Only a horse!” faltered Nan, somewhat ashamed of her needless fear.
“Just old Dobbin, the horse!” chuckled her father.
“He made noise enough for a whole circus,” declared Bert. “And when I saw him looking in through the curtain I thought—well, crickity grasshoppers, I didn’t know what to think.”
“I’m glad the horse came along,” said Mr. Bobbsey, as the animal, after sniffing at the automobile once or twice, continued on his wandering way, crashing through the masses of underbrush in the darkness.
“Well, I’m not,” declared Nan. “He frightened me.”
“Why are you glad about the horse, Daddy?” asked Bert.
“Because it shows there must be a farm near here, and we’ll find our way out in the morning,” was the answer.
“I hope so,” murmured Nan.
“Better go to sleep again,” suggested her father. “And don’t be frightened by any more noises. Noise can’t harm you, and there are no bears or other wild beasts in these woods.”