cowbell rattle, and the voice of a
boy shouting. He paused to take breath and listen; and presently with a
crashing of bushes three or four horned cattle came pushing their way
through the undergrowth, into the open road, followed by a lad without a
jacket, with one suspender and a long switch.

"Boy," Jack cried, "how far is it to the nearest house?"

"Our house is jest down through the woods here," replied the boy,
stopping to stare.

"How far is that?"

"Not quite so far as it is to Peakslow's house."

"Where is Peakslow's house?"

"Next house to ours, down the river."

Seeing that this line of questions was not likely to lead to anything
very satisfactory, Jack asked,--

"Can I get a horse of anybody in your neighborhood,--a good fast horse
to ride?"

The boy whipped a bush with his switch, and replied,--

"There ain't any good horses around here, 'thout 'tis Peakslow's; but
one of his has got the spring halt, and t' other's got the blind
staggers; and he's too mean to lend his horses; and, besides, he went to
Chicago with 'em both this morning."

Jack did not stop to question the probability of a span thus afflicted
being driven on so long a journey; but asked if Mr. Wiggett had horses.

"No--yes. I believe his horses are all oxen," replied the boy; "not very
fast or good to ride either."

Thereupon Jack, losing all patience, cried out,--

"Isn't there a decent nag to be had in this region?"

"Who said there wasn't?" retorted the boy.

"Where is there one?"

"We've got one."

"A horse?"

"No; a mare."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"'Cause you asked for horses; you didn't say anything about mares."

"Is she good to ride?"

"Pretty good,--though if you make her go much faster 'n she takes a
notion to, she's got the heaves so folks'll think there's a small
volcano coming!"

"How fast will she go?"

"As fast as a good slow walk; that's her style," said the boy, and
whipped the bushes. "But, come to think, father's away from home, and
you'll have to wait till to-morrow night before you can see him, and get
him to let you take her."

"Boy," said Jack, tired of the lad's tone of levity, and thinking to
interest him by a statement of the facts in the case, "I've been
hunting, and a rascal I trusted with my horse has run off with him, and
I have a harness and a buggy and a couple of dead deer out there on the
prairie."

"Deer?" echoed the lad, pricking up his ears at once. "Did you