Flying went the six feet down the highway, reaching the stone gateway leading into the grounds at the very instant Kate Hallock and her mother, in the phaeton, were putting Neptune to his utmost speed to try and reach the wharf before the tug should start.
“Hurrah!” cried three cloth caps—no, three boy voices (the caps were taking a circle around the heads and got a little mixed); but Kate, in her hurry, could not stop and cried, “Take care!” as the nearest lad almost pitched into Neptune’s fore feet.
“Stop, stop! he’s all right!” fairly yelled the lads, turning and running after the ladies.
“What do they say?” gasped Kate.
Neptune felt an awful pull at his mouth, and stood still.
“Why, Frank’s found!” gasped one.
“Found!” groaned Mrs. Hallock.
“He’s to New Haven!” panted No. 2, dashing his cap on his head, and thinking “They don’t act very glad, after all.”
“I say he’s all right!” ejaculated No. 3, “and he’s telegraphed it to say so. The man told us so and he’s a-going to send it down.”
“Frank’s alive and safe!” repeated Kate, bursting into tears.