He saw his guardian go to the front of the Towner home. A light appeared inside, and in a few minutes Mr. Towner came around the corner of the house with Mr. Warner. The horse was led up to the barn.
“I’m sorry Dave has run away, Mr. Warner,” Mr. Towner remarked.
“Oh, we’ll catch him,” replied Dave’s guardian. “A bad boy, sir, a very bad boy.”
“Why, I never thought that.”
“But he is. He broke into my desk, and has stolen money and other property of mine.”
The listening Dave fired up at this bold and false accusation. He was half minded to go down into the yard and face his accuser with the proof of the falsity of his charge.
“If you’ll just let me take any old rig to hitch up Dobbin to, it’ll be an accommodation,” went on Warner. “That runaway rascal maliciously smashed the wheel of my only wagon this evening.”
Mr. Towner pulled a light vehicle out of a shed, and Dobbin was hitched up. Silas Warner and his neighbor drove off, and Mr. Towner went back to bed.
Dave was worried and disturbed for a long time, even after things had quieted down. In his present crippled condition he did not dare venture outside. He was snug and safe for the time being at least, and finally he dropped off into a sound sleep.
The youth awoke to find the sun shining through the half-open hay door. He crept over to it as he fancied he heard some one moving about in the yard below. Dave was gratified to find his foot in much improved condition over the night previous. It was still a bit lame and stiff, but he could bear his weight upon it without flinching.