A thump of swiftly falling hoofs reached him, and a team and a lumber wagon came slashing into view around a wooded bend.
The horses attached to the wagon were more than laying out.
The lines were dragging on the ground, there was no one on the bounding seat, and the awkward vehicle leaped and buck-jumped like a thing of life.
In the rear of the wagon box were two men, struggling with each other for the mastery.
One of the men was Chick, and the other was Spark.
CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW CHICK GOT HIS MAN.
Spark was not so good a runner as Cricket, and Chick would have made a capture much quicker than Patsy had done, had his man not doubled back to the road, and, fortunately for him, encountered a young woman in a gingham dress and sunbonnet, driving home from town.
“Stop!” cried Spark. “Take me in—I want to ride with you!”
“Not much you don’t!” returned the young woman, with a toss of her head. “I can pick my own comp’ny, thanks!”
“Will you stop?”