"Oh, yes; he's doing nicely, far better than his mother has any
notion of."

Here was more food for thought. Why had the father delegated the
pleasant duty of taking the boy back to the old mountain home to
another if he had been situated so that he might have taken the
journey himself?

"Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" he kept asking himself.

While they stood there together a great clattering came down the
trail, and they saw Frank turn aside and stand at attention, as if
waiting for some object, seen in the distance, to come up. Directly
the sounds settled down to the rattling of stones and the steady
pounding of hoofs.

"Look what's here!" Frank shouted, pointing.

Ned moved forward, closer to the trail, and in a moment caught sight
of a tall, lank, ungainly mule coming galloping toward him!

"What do you think of him?" called Frank. "He's come to tell us that
it is time we were home and in bed."

"Uncle Ike!" called Ned. "Come here, you foolish mule!"

Uncle Ike, now in plain sight, kicked up his heels in derision but
finally came to an abrupt halt in front of Ned, and stood with ears
pitched forward and forelegs braced back, evidently very much
frightened.