"What's the matter, brother?" I asked.
"You 'most stepped on me. I'm too tired to hop out of anybody's way."
"Why you're Hoppy Go-Slow, the children's pet," I said. "I know you by that scar on your rough skin. What's happened to you?"
He settled back on his hind legs and sighed heavily. "I was kidnapped!"
I couldn't help laughing. This matter of kidnapping seemed to be in the air of this place. But it was one thing to take away a handsome boy, and another to carry off a warty old toad.
"It was no laughing matter for me," said Hoppy crossly. "Suppose you lived in a snug hole away back of the big rocks in Mrs. Devering's fernery—would you like to be snatched away and taken to live in an ugly dirty place?"
"Indeed I wouldn't," I said. "I love a pretty home. I beg your pardon for laughing. Do tell me your adventures."
"It was that lazy Joe Gentles that kidnapped me," he said; "by my warts! I'd like to punish him."
"Joe Gentles—the guide who lives in that lonely house near the dam?" I asked.