“Say, Miss Searight,” she called, her forearm across her forehead to shade her eyes, the hand still holding the fish’s head, “say, while you’re out this morning will you keep an eye out for that dog of our’n—­you know, Dan—­the one with liver’n white spots?  He’s run off again—­ain’t seen him since yesterday noon.  He gets away an’ goes off fighting other dogs over the whole blessed county.  There ain’t a dog big ’r little within ten mile that Dan ain’t licked.  He’d sooner fight than he would eat, that dog.”

“I will, I will,” answered Lloyd, climbing to the high seat, “and if I find him I shall drag him back by the scruff of his neck.  Good-morning, Lewis.  Why have you put the overhead check on Rox?”

Lewis touched his cap.

“He feels his oats some this morning, and if he gets his lower jaw agin’ his chest there’s no holding of him, Miss—­no holding of him in the world.”

Lloyd gathered up the reins and spoke to the horse, and Lewis stood aside.

Rox promptly went up into the air on his hind legs, shaking his head with a great snort.

“Steady, you old pig,” said Lloyd, calmly.  “Soh, soh, who’s trying to kill you?”

“Hadn’t I better come with you, Miss?” inquired Lewis anxiously.

Lloyd shook her head.  “No, indeed,” she said decisively.

Rox, after vindicating his own independence by the proper amount of showing off, started away down the road with as high an action as he could command, playing to the gallery, looking back and out of the tail of his eye to see if Lewis observed what a terrible fellow he was that morning.

“Well, of all the critters!” commented Mrs. Applegate from the porch.  But Charley-Joe, with an almost hypnotic fixity in his yellow eyes, and who during the last few minutes had several times opened his mouth wide in an ineffectual attempt to mew, suddenly found his voice with a prolonged and complaining note.

“Well, heavens an’ airth, take your fish, then!” exclaimed Mrs. Applegate suddenly, remembering the cat.  “An’ get off’n my porch with it.”  She pushed him away with the side of her foot, and Charley-Joe, with the fish’s head in his teeth, retired around the corner of the house by the rain barrel, where at intervals he could be heard growling to himself in a high-pitched key, pretending the approach of some terrible enemy.

Meanwhile Lloyd, already well on her way, was having an exciting tussle with Rox.  The horse had begun by making an exhibition of himself for all who could see, but in the end he had so worked upon his own nerves that instead of frightening others he only succeeded in terrifying himself.  He was city-bred, and the sudden change from brick houses to open fields had demoralised him.  He began to have a dim consciousness of just how strong he was.  There was nothing vicious about him.  He would not have lowered himself to kick, but he did want, with all the big, strong heart of him, to run.