to be robbed by Captain Ralph Stackpole, the villian!"

"If it be possible to follow the rascal," said Roland, giving way to
wrath himself, "I must do so, and without a moment's delay. I would to
heaven I had known this earlier."

"Whar war the use," said Bruce; "whar was the use of disturbing a tired
man in his nap, and he a guest of mine too?"

"The advantage would have been," said Roland, a little testily, "that the
pursuit could have been instantly begun."

"And war it _not_?" said the colonel. "Thar war not two minutes lost
after the horse war missing, afore my son Tom and a dozen more of the
best woodsmen war mounted on the fleetest horses in the settlement, and
galloping after, right on the brute's trail."

"Thanks, my friend," said Roland, with a cordial grasp of the hand. "The
horse will be recovered?"

"Thar's no denying it," said Bruce, "if a fresh leg can outrun a weary
one; and besides, the brute war not content with the best horse, but he
must have the second best too, that's Major Smalleye's two-y'ar-old pony.
He has an eye for a horse, the etarnal skirmudgeon! but the pony will be
the death of him; for he's skeary, and will keep Ralph slow in the path.
No, sir; we'll have your brown horse before you can say Jack Robinson.
But the intolerability of the thing, sir, is that Ralph Stackpole should
steal my guest's horse, sir! But it's the end of his thieving, the brute,
or thar's no snakes! I told him Lynch war out, the brute, and I told the
boys to take car' I war not found lying; and I reckon they won't forget