Again Gordon attempted to drive on, and once more Sam stopped him.  James felt at last fairly dizzy, when he heard the farmer almost beg Gordon to trade horses, offer him twenty-five dollars to boot, and the apples.  He sat in the buggy watching while the mare was led out of the stable, the black horse was taken out of the traces, and the bridle was left on without a remonstrance on Sam’s part, and exchanged for a much newer one, while twenty-five dollars in dirty bank-notes were carefully counted out by Sam, and then Gordon jumped into the buggy and drove off.  He was quivering with suppressed mirth.  “The biter is bitten this time,” he said as soon as he was out of hearing of Sam Tucker.  Then he made an exclamation of dismay.

“What’s the matter?” asked James.

“Well, I have left my whip.  I must risk it and go back.  I paid a lot for that whip.”

Gordon turned and drove back at a sharp trot.  When they came alongside the farm fence James saw the whip lying on the ground, and jumped out to get it.  He was back in the buggy, and they were just proceeding on their way, when there was a shout, and Sam Tucker came rushing around the house, and held the horse’s tail as Aaron had done in the morning.  “Comes off,” he gasped.

“Of course,” said the doctor coolly.  “I didn’t say it didn’t.  It’s for convenience in muddy weather.”

“Cribs,” gasped Sam Tucker.

“Yes, a little,” said Gordon.  “Keep him away from hitching-posts.  You didn’t say you wanted a horse to hitch.  He never cribs when he’s driven.  Good-day, Sam.”

Gordon and James were off again.  Gordon was doubled up with merriment, in which James joined.  “I’m glad to get behind old Fanny once more,” said Gordon.  “She’s worth two of that other animal!  Clemency will be glad to see her again.  She felt badly when I traded her.  In fact, I wouldn’t have done it if I had known how much the child cared for the mare.  She used to drive her a lot and pet her.  I think it will be perfectly safe for you to take Clemency out driving when there isn’t a moon.  Fanny is pretty fast when she is touched with the whip, and, though she’s gentle, she hasn’t much use for strangers.  I don’t think she would stand a stranger at her head.  I think you may go out to-night, if you like.  Poor Clemency needs the air.  We’ll use the team this afternoon, and Fanny will be fresh by evening.”

James colored.  He remembered how Clemency had avoided him that morning.  “Perchance she won’t care to go,” he said.

“Of course, she will,” said Gordon.  “She will go, and I want her to, but you must always bear in mind what I told you last night, and—­” he hesitated.  “Don’t do your utmost to make the poor little thing think you are the moon and sun and stars in case you should change your mind,” he finished.

“I shall never change my mind,” James said hotly.