“Well, I’ll be jiggered!  What do you propose to do next?”

“I don’t know what to do.  I might get the village constable to hunt for him, but I don’t think it will do any good.”

“Why don’t you tell your folks first?”

“Yes, I reckon that will be best.  Jump in the carriage and I’ll drive you over to our home.”

Fred had but little to tell out of the ordinary.  His folks had wanted him to go to the seashore for the summer, but he had preferred to take the houseboat trip with the Rovers.

“I am sure we shall have a dandy time,” he said.  “I was on a houseboat trip once, down in Florida, and it was simply great.”

“What do you think about the Lanings and the Stanhopes going with us?”

“That will be nice.  We certainly ought to have a bang-up time,” answered Fred, enthusiastically.

Sam had driven over with the best horse the Rover stable afforded, a magnificent bay, which Anderson Rover had purchased in Albany at a special sale early in the spring.  Sam had pleaded to take the steed and his parent had finally consented.

“That’s a fine bit of horseflesh you have,” observed Fred, as they sped along the level road leading to Valley Brook farm.  “I like the manner in which he steps out first-rate.”

“Chips is a good horse,” answered Sam.  “There is only one fault he has.”

“And what is that?”

“He is easily frightened at a bit of paper or some other white object in the road.”

“That is bad.”

The conversation now changed and the boys spoke of the good times ahead.  Farm after farm was passed, until they were almost in sight of Valley Brook.

“What a beautiful stretch of country,” observed Fred, as he gazed around.  “I don’t wonder that your uncle settled here while your father was in Africa.”

“We used to hate the farm, Tom especially.  We thought it was too dead slow for anything.  But now we love to come back to it, after being at school or somewhere else.”

They were just passing the farm next to that of the Rovers when a man came driving up to them at a rapid gait.  He was seated on a buckboard and had behind him a box filled with showbills.

“Visit the circus day after to-morrow!  Biggest show on earth for a quarter!” he shouted, and flung a couple of bills at them.

“A circus!” began Fred, when, without warning, Chips made a wild leap that nearly threw him and Sam into the road.  Scared by the sight of the showbills the horse made a plunge and then began to run away.

“Whoa, Chips, whoa!” sang out Sam.

“Don’t—­don’t let him get away, Sam!” came from Fred, as he gripped the side of the carriage.

“He shan’t get away if I can help it,” was the answer, from between Sam’s shut teeth.  “Whoa, Chips, whoa!” he went on.

But Chips wouldn’t whoa, and the sight of another white handbill in the middle of the road caused him to shy to one side.  Both boys were unseated, and Sam would have gone to the ground had not Fred held him fast.