y could into the Cocahutchie. Just in front
of the group, under the trees, stood Mary Ogden, straight as an arrow,
her dark eyes flashing and her cheeks glowing while she looked silently
at the boy on the wagon in the stream, until she saw him wheel the
grays. Even then she did not say anything, but turned and walked away.
It was as if she had so much to say that she felt she could not say it.

"Aunt Melinda! Mother!" said one of the girls, "Jack isn't hurt a
mite. They'd all ha' been drowned, though, if there was water enough."

"Hush, Bessie," said one of the large women, and the other at once
echoed, "Hush, Bessie."

They were very nearly alike, these women, and they both had long
straight noses, such as Jack's would have been, if half-way down it had
not been Roman, like his father's.

"Mary Ann," said the first woman, "we mustn't say too much to him about
it. He can only just be held in, now."

"Hush, Melinda," said Jack's mother. "I thought I'd seen the last of
him when the gray critters came a-powderin' down the road past the
house"--and then she wiped her eyes again, and so did Aunt Melinda, and
they both stooped down at the same moment, saying, "Jack's safe,
Sally," and picked up the small girl, who was crying, and kissed her.

The gray team was surrendered to its owner as soon as it reached the
road at the foot of the bridge, and again Jack was loudly praised by
the miller. The rest of the Ogden family seemed to be disposed to keep
away, but the tall blacksmith himself was there.

"Jack," said he, as they turned away homeward, "you can go fishing this
afternoon, just as I said. I was thinking of your doing something else
afterward, but you've done about enough for one day."

He had more to say, concerning what would have happened to the miller's
horses, and the number of pieces the wagon would have been knocked
into, but for the manner in which the whole team had been saved.

When they reached the house the front door was open, but nobody was to
be seen. Bob and Jim, the two small boys, had not yet returned from
seeing the gray span taken to the mill, and the women and girls had
gone through to the kitchen.

"Jack," said his father, as they went in, "old Hammond'll owe you that
fifty dollars long enough. He never really pays anything."

"Course he doesn't--not if he can help it," said Jack. "I worked for
him three months, and you know we had to take it out in feed. I
learned the mill tr