Shaking out their ponies, the boys were soon at the door of a weather-beaten log-cabin, and as they dismounted an old man came round the corner, eying them suspiciously.
“Have you seen a black horse with a halter?” asked Phil, ignoring the hostile looks that the man bestowed on them.
“No, I ain’t. I only got two horses and they’re brown, so you can’t work that game on me. If you don’t want to get into trouble, you’d better be going. You can’t—”
“We are in trouble enough without getting into any more. Come on Phil,” interrupted Ted.
“That’s right, be off. You can’t play any horse-stealing tricks on me,” snarled the old man.
“Horse-stealing?” repeated Phil, “why, we’ve lost one of our new horses that we bought in Bradley this morning. We are not trying to steal any.”
Fortunately for the young homesteaders before they could get into further argument with the old man, they were joined by a girl so redolent with health and so pretty that the boys stared at her in speechless amazement.
“What is it, Pap?” she asked, noting the scowl on her father’s face.
“These fellers claims to be looking for a black horse they say—”
“Did he have a new halter?” quickly interrupted the girl, turning to Phil.