n' yer complexion."

Leighton smiled, but said nothing. They had reached the carryall, an old
hickory structure sadly in need of paint. Hitched to it were two rangy
bays. The harness was a piece of ingenious patchwork, fitted with hames
instead of collars. Leighton stepped into the back seat, and Lewis
followed. William unhitched the horses and climbed into the cramped
front seat. When he had settled down, his knees seemed to be peering
over the dash-board. "Gid ap!" he cried, and the bays started off slowly
across the bridge.

The road to the homestead followed down the river for three miles before
it took to the hills. No sooner had the carryall made the turn into the
River Road than the bays sprang forward so suddenly that Lewis's hat
flew off backward, and for a moment he thought his head had followed.

"Heh!" he called, "I've lost my hat!"

"Never mind your hat, Son," shouted William. "Silas'll pick it up."

The bays evidently thought he was shouting at them. They let their
enormous stride out another link. The carryall plowed through the dust,
rattled over pebbles, and, where the road ran damp under overhanging
trees, shot four streams of mud from its flying wheels. Old William
chewed steadily at the cud of tobacco he had kept tucked in his cheek
during the interview at the station. His long arms were stretched full
length along the taut reins. If he had only had hand-holds on them, he
would have been quite content. As it was, he was grinning.

"Gee, Dad!" gasped Lewis, "d'you know those horses are still
_trotting_!"

Leighton leaned forward.

"Got a match, William?" he shouted above the creak and rattle of the
carryall.

"Heh?" yelled William.

The bays let out another link.

"Got a match?" repeated Leighton. "I want to smoke."

William waved his beard at his left-hand pocket.

As they struck a bit of quiet, soft road, Leighton called:

"Why don't you let 'em out? You've gone and left your whip at home. How
are we going to get up the hill?"

The grin faded from Old William's face. "_Gid ap!_" he roared, and then
the bays showed what they could really do in the way of hurrying for
the doctor. The old carryall leaped a thank-you-ma'am clean. When it
struck, the hickory wheels bent to the storm, but did not break.
Instead, they shot their load into the air. A low-hanging branch swooped
down and swept the canopy, supports and all, off the carryall. William
never looked back.

Lewis clung to the b