wagon suffered no damage, but the old horse, terrified, set off at a
rapid pace. Herbert looked back to see if the stranger was injured, but
seeing that he had already picked himself up unwounded, but decidedly
dirty, he concluded to keep on his way to the mill.

The driver of the overturned vehicle was considerably more angry than
hurt at this catastrophe.

It chafed his pride not a little to think that, after all his vaunts,
the boy had maintained his ground, and got the better of him. For a man
of forty-five to be worsted by a boy of fourteen was, it must be
confessed, a little mortifying. It was something like a great ship of
the line being compelled to surrender to a little monitor.

No one feels particularly dignified or good-natured when he is picking
himself out of a mud puddle. Our black-haired acquaintance proved no
exception to this remark. He shook his fist at the receding wagon and
its occupant--a demonstration of defiance which our hero did not
witness, his back being now turned to his late opponent.

Mr. Abner Holden--for this was the stranger's name--next turned his
attention to the buggy, which had been damaged to some extent, and so
was likely to involve him in expense. This was another uncomfortable
reflection. Meanwhile, as it was no longer in a fit state for travel, he
must contrive some way to have it carried back to the stable, and,
unless he could procure another vehicle, perform the rest of the journey
on foot.

Luckily, some men in a neighboring field had witnessed the collision,
and, supposing their services might be required, were now present to