hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to
catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.

It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through
village after village.

They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were
soaked to the skin.

Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could
look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of
a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling
through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in
every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and
in every pane of glass that faced the west.

"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the
matter with the feller?"

A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between
the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to
rise.

"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy
stopped.

"Get a fall?" he asked.

The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have
ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head