“Well, Callipers,” he inquired, “got a hoss for me?”
“You bet,” replied the man, “an’ a powerful good un, too.”
Captain Bill went close to the bow-legged man, bent down to him, and said something in an undertone. The man listened and nodded.
Then followed a conversation which no one could hear, except the persons engaged in it. It ended with Captain Bill’s counting out some money from a black and greasy leather wallet, and handing the money to Callipers.
Then one of the captain’s horses was unfastened, and placed in possession of the bow-legged man. The gray took its harness, and its place at the tow-line.
All this time Joe had been busy at the feed-box at the bow of the boat. At this moment he came up and discovered what was going on.
The gray horse first attracted his attention. There was something about the animal that reminded him strongly of Old Charlie.
He looked again, and more closely. The horse threw up his head and neighed. It was Old Charlie!
Joe gave a leap to the side of the boat, another to the tow-path, and in the next instant he was at the horse’s head.
“Charlie!” he cried. “Charlie! Why, Old Charlie, is this you?”
The beast whinnied, and putting his nose down against Joe’s breast, began to rub him in the old way.
Captain Bill and Callipers looked at each other in open-eyed astonishment.
“Knows ’im!” exclaimed the bow-legged man.
The bow-legged man advanced and looked at the boy more closely.
“Bless my eyes an’ ears!” he exclaimed, drawing hastily back.
He recognized Joe as the boy who had visited the stable the morning on which the horse was stolen.
“Good-by, Bill!” he said to the captain. “I’m goin’!”
But at that moment Joe, running quickly, intercepted him.
“Where’d you get that horse?” he demanded, panting with excitement. “Where’d you get him?”
“I got ’im where ’e grew, sonny, but they aint no more like ’im, so you needn’t go lookin’ for one.”
“You don’t want to know nothin’. You go ten’ to them hosses,” interrupted Captain Bill. “See where the boat’s gittin’ to. Mind your business and stop asking questions.”
“Never mind that hoss. You ten’ to business. He’s my hoss now!”
“No, he’s not your horse! He’s my father’s horse. He was stolen from my father’s barn. He--”