"Sartain. Where are you going?"

"To Colebrook."

"Then this is your team."

Harry climbed up with a boy's activity, and sat down on the broad
seat, congratulating himself that he would have a chance to see the
country, and breathe better air than those confined inside.

Soon the driver sat down on the box beside him, and started the
horses.

"You're a stranger, ain't you?" he remarked, with an inquisitive
glance at his young traveling companion.

"Yes; I've never been here before."

"Are you going to the tavern?"

"No; I'm going to the house of Mr. John Fox. Do you know him?"

"I reckon everybody round here knows John Fox."

"I don't know him. He is to be my guardian."

"Sho! You'll have a queer guardeen."

"Why queer?"