that Englishman," he said, backing out of the water,
and wiping his boots on the grass. "He hasn't even gumption enough to
throw down a load of stone there. Drive in, Laura, and I'll put up the
bars." Fleetfoot took us through the opening, and then Mr. Harry jumped
into the buggy and took up the reins again.

We had to go very slowly up a narrow, rough road. The bushes scratched
and scraped against the buggy, and Mr. Harry looked very much annoyed.

"No man liveth to himself," said Miss Laura, softly. "This man's
carelessness is giving you trouble. Why doesn't he cut these branches
that overhang the road?"

"He can't do it, because his abominable laziness won't let him," said
Mr. Harry. "I'd like to be behind him for a week, and I'd make him step
a little faster. We have arrived at last, thank goodness."

There was a small grass clearing in the midst of the woods. Chips and
bits of wood were littered about, and across the clearing was a
roughly-built house of unpainted boards. The front door was propped open
by a stick. Some of the panes of glass in the windows were broken, and
the whole house had a melancholy, dilapidated look. I thought that I had
never seen such a sad-looking place.

"It seems as if there was no one about," said Mr. Harry, with a puzzled
face. "Barron must be away. Will you hold Fleetfoot, Laura, while I go
and see?"

He drew the buggy up near a small log building that had evidently been
used for a stable, and I lay down beside it and watched Miss Laura.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXVII

A NEGLECTED STABLE

I had not been on the ground more than a few seconds, before I turned my
eyes from Miss Laura to the log hut. It was deathly quiet, there was not
a sound coming from it, but the air was full of queer smells, and I was
so uneasy that I could not lie still. There was something the matter
with Fleetfoot, too. He was pawing the ground and whinnying, and
looking, not after Mr. Harry, but toward the log building.

"Joe," said Miss Laura, "what is the matter with you and Fleetfoot? Why
don't you stand still? Is there any stranger about?" and she peered out
of the buggy.

I knew there was something wrong somewhere, but I didn't know what it
was; so I stretched myself up on the step of the buggy, and licked her
hand, and barking, to ask her to excuse me, I ran off to the other side
of the log hut. There was a door there, but it was closed, and propped