“Oh, look who has come!” cried Tavia, seizing Dorothy’s arm.
“Ned and Nat—and there’s Bob, of course,” laughed Dorothy. “What did I tell you, lady?”
A dog ran behind the boys—a funny, long bodied, short-legged dog. He cavorted about as gracefully as an animated sausage.
“Look at the funny dog!” gasped Tavia, immediately appearing to lose her interest in the three collegians. “Is that a dachshund? Oh-o-o!”
Her scream was reasonable. The dog leaped in front of the steers’ noses. The huge creatures snorted, swung the cart-tongue around, and lurched forward down the steep descent!
The girls could not get out then. The road was too rocky. The oxen were really running away. Their tails stiffened out over the front board of the cart and the cart itself bounded in the air so that the passengers could only cling and scream.
They were having quite all the excitement even Tavia craved, thank you!
CHAPTER XXI
“THAT REDHEAD”
“To look at those beasts,” Tavia said, ruefully, and some time after the event, “you wouldn’t think they could run at all.”