again. It was a calm
night, and he could just hear old Whitey's feet,--tramp,--tramp,--tramp.

The next morning the good people of Fairview, ten miles from New Hope,
laughed to see an old white horse, with a bundle of hay a few inches
beyond his nose, passing through the place.

Mr. Smith, after breakfast, started out to hunt up old Whitey. He often
found him under the maple in front of the Pensioner's house. Paul was
swinging on the gate. "Have you seen my horse?" Mr. Smith asked.

"Yes, sir, I saw him going down towards the bridge last evening," Paul
replied, chuckling to himself.

Mr. Smith went down to the mill and inquired. The miller heard a horse
go over the bridge. The farmer on the other side heard a horse go up the
hill. Mr. Smith looked at the tracks. They were old Whitey's, who had a
broken shoe on his left hind foot. He followed on. "I never knew him to
go away before," he said to himself, as he walked hour after hour,
seeing the tracks all the way to Fairview.

"Have you seen a white horse about here?" he asked of one of the
villagers.

"Yes, sir; there was one here this morning trying to overtake a bundle
of hay," the man replied, laughing. "There he is now!" he added.

Mr. Smith looked up and saw old Whitey, who had turned about, and was
reaching forward to get a nibble of the hay. Mr. Smith felt like being
angry, but the old horse was walking so soberly and earnestly that he
couldn't help laughing.

"That is some of Paul's doings, I know. I'll give him a blessing when I
get back."

It was noon before Mr. Smith reached New Hope. Paul and Bruno were
sitting beneath the maple.

"Where did you find old Whitey?" Paul asked.

"You was the one who did it, you little rascal!"

"Did what?"

"You know what. You have made me walk clear to Fairview. I have a mind
to horsewhip you."

Paul laughed to think that the old horse had tramped so far, though he
was sorry that Mr. Smith had been obliged to walk that distance.

"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Smith; but old Whitey has made our dooryard
his stamping-place all summer, and I thought I would see if I could get
rid of him."

"Well, sir, if you do it again I'll trounce you!" said Mr. Smith as he
rode away, his anger coming up.

"Wouldn't it be better for you to put him in a pasture, Mr. Smith? Then
he wouldn't trouble us," said Paul, who knew that Mr. Smith had no right
to let old Whitey run at large. Paul was not easily frightened when he
had