“And if you see anything of Prince on your wanderings, don’t fail to catch him,” begged Will, a few nights before the day set for the start.
“We will,” promised Grace.
The telephone rang—they were all at Grace’s house. She answered.
“Yes, yes. This is Mr. Ford’s residence. What’s that—you have a stray white horse? Oh, Will, maybe it’s Prince!” and she turned eagerly to her brother. “A man from Randall’s livery stable is on the wire. He says they have a white horse that was just brought in. A farmer says he found him wandering about the country. Hurry down there!”
CHAPTER VII
STOWAWAYS
“Then he isn’t your horse, Will?” It was Mr. Randall, the livery stable keeper who asked this question as Grace’s brother critically inspected an animal that was led out for view in the stable.
“No, that isn’t Prince,” was the answer. “He looks enough like him, though, to be his brother. I’m much obliged for calling me up.”
Will had hastened down after the receipt of the message Grace had taken over the telephone, for Randall’s, as had all livery stables in the vicinity, had been notified to be on the lookout for the strangely missing animal, who might be wandering about the country carrying valuable documents in the saddle pocket.
“Two young fellows drove in here with this horse, and asked if they could put him up for a while,” went on the livery man. “I didn’t like the way they acted, but I didn’t see how they could do me any harm, so I said they could. Then I got to thinking about your horse, and I called up. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“I’m sorry myself, Mr. Randall. I can’t imagine where Prince can be.”