"What can we do?" said chestnut. "That fellow hired me last night, saying I would probably be at home to-day, but it don't seem possible to go back all that long way without breakfast, or water at least."
"But," I replied, "it is the only thing to do. We can't make folks understand, and, if we go wandering around, we'll be put in the pound. Besides, I am taking cold and getting stiffer every minute."
"So am I."
"We may as well start at once," and we started.
What a weary, weary way it was! One of my knees, too, had been sprained in that last mad race, and became momentarily more painful.
It was long past noon when I limped into our own lane. A pair of our horses stood at the gate, and a moment later Dr. Fred, with a face awful in its stern whiteness, came out of the house.
"The horse is ruined," he remarked tersely, looking me over, "but I don't know as anything matters much. Give him the best of care and nursing," he added to Burr.
The latter was a good hand with horses. "Poor Dandy!" he said, "I wish you could tell where you have been, and about the little mistress."
But I could not.