“Oh, some one has him, you may be sure of that. A valuable horse like that wouldn’t go long without an owner. Maybe some one has changed his color—dyed him, you know. That has been done. Of course the dye doesn’t last forever, but in this case it might hold long enough for the excitement to subside.”
“Well, if they’ll send back the papers, they can keep the horse, as much as I like Prince,” Spoke Will, as he started home to tell his sister and the girls the details of the unsuccessful trip. He had already briefly telephoned to them of his disappointment.
“Oh, isn’t it too bad!” cried Horace, as Will came back. “Do you really think, Will, that some one has Prince and the papers?”
“It looks so, Sis. Has dad said anything lately?”
“No, I believe the other side hasn’t done anything, either, which might go to show that they haven’t the papers. But it’s all so uncertain. Well, girls,” and she turned to her guests, “I guess we can finish talking about what we will wear.”
“Which, means that I must become like a tree in Spring,” sighed Will.
“How is that?” asked Amy. “Is it a riddle?”
“He means he must leave—that’s an old one,” mocked Mollie. “Any candy left, Grace?” and Mollie, who had been artistically posing on a divan, crossed the room to where Grace sat near a table strewn with books and papers, a box of chocolates occupying the place of honor.
“Of course there are some left,” answered Grace.
“Which is a wonder!” exclaimed Will, as he hurried out of the room before his sister could properly punish him.