"Only that the bones of a horse were once coming through the skin," replied Francisco. "And so it was with mine. But now he is not so bad. I will go quickly and bring the cart."
Walter looked at his father.
"Yes, go along," said Mr. Page. "Nellie will wait until you come back."
"But about the money—I was forgetting," said Francisco. "Is it too much for every barrel to pay twenty-five cents?"
"Not at all. It is quite reasonable," said Mr. Page.
"There will be perhaps two every week."
"That will be all right."
"Very good," said Francisco.
The two boys left the tent, beginning a lively race with each other at once. Francisco soon outdistanced Walter, but magnanimously refusing to presume on his superior skill, waited for him under an oak tree which stood, beautiful and solitary, in the middle of the road.
"You are a fine runner, Francisco," said Walter, when he arrived.