"I'm sorry myself, Mr. Randall. I can't imagine where Prince can be."

"Oh, some one has him, you may be sure of that. A valuable horse like
that wouldn't go long without an owner. Maybe some one has changed his
color-- dyed him, you know. That has been done. Of course the dye
doesn't last forever, but in this case it might hold long enough for
the excitement to subside."

"Well, if they'll send back the papers, they can keep the horse, as
much as I like Prince," Spoke Will, as he started home to tell his
sister and the girls the details of the unsuccessful trip. He had
already briefly telephoned to them of his disappointment.

"Oh, isn't it too bad!" cried Horace, as Will came back. "Do you
really think, Will, that some one has Prince and the papers?"

"It looks so, Sis. Has dad said anything lately?"

"No, I believe the other side hasn't done anything, either, which
might go to show that they haven't the papers. But it's all so
uncertain. Well, girls," and she turned to her guests, "I guess we can
finish talking about what we will wear."

"Which, means that I must become like a tree in Spring," sighed Will.

"How is that?" asked Amy. "Is it a riddle?"

"He means he must leave-- that's an old one," mocked Mollie. "Any
candy left, Grace?" and Mollie, who had been artistically posing on a
divan, crossed the room to where Grace sat near a table strewn with