As they ran past the barn, the big doors of which were open, the old fire horse trotted inside. He looked about, and on the floor he saw a piece of rope. Picking this up in his teeth, Dapple Gray, with Tinkle’s mother, ran on toward the house. Out in the back yard stood Mr. Carter talking to some of his hands.
“Look!” suddenly called one of the men. “Some of the horses are out of the meadow. They’re coming here!”
“So they are!” ejaculated Mr. Carter. “I wonder what that means.”
“And Dapple Gray has a rope in his teeth,” went on the man.
“Why, so he has!” exclaimed Mr. Carter. “I wonder what that means.”
Right up to where the stock breeder and his men stood ran Dapple Gray and Tinkle’s mother. The old fire horse stretched out his neck and shook his head up and down, the rope flapping to and fro. He seemed to be offering it to Mr. Carter.
“Ha! Dapple wants something,” said the stockman. “I wonder what it is. I wish he could talk.”
And then Dapple Gray did something which was almost as good as talking. He rubbed the rope that was in his mouth against Mr. Carter’s hand, and then, dropping it at his feet, took hold of the man’s coat in his teeth. Then the old fire horse began to pull gently, just as often a dog, when it finds some one in danger, will try to lead somebody to the place to help.
“Why!” cried the surprised Mr. Carter. “I believe Dapple wants me to come with him.”