Fred, ever eager to shield Teddy, came forward.
“Why, Uncle Aaron!” he exclaimed. “I’m awfully sorry this happened. Just wait a minute and I’ll hustle round to get a rig to take you—”
“Happened!” broke in the shrill voice of his uncle. “Happened!” he snorted again, his wrath rising. “This thing didn’t just happen. Something made those horses run away, and I want to know just what it was. And I’m not going to be satisfied till I find out,” the man went on, glaring suspiciously from one to the other of the boys until he finally settled on Teddy.
But Teddy just then was intently studying the beautiful sunset.
Good-natured Jim Dabney tried, right here, to make a diversion.
“The horses must have got frightened at something,” he ventured hopefully.
“Yes,” said Jack Youmans, following his lead, “I could see that they were awfully scared.”
“You don’t say so!” retorted Uncle Aaron, with withering sarcasm. “I could guess as much as that myself.” And the two boys, having met with the usual fate of peacemakers, fell back, red and wilted.
“Gee, isn’t he an old crank?” muttered Jim.
“That’s what,” assented Jack. “I’d hate to be in Teddy’s shoes just now.”