“See that Firefoot is well rubbed down and cared for, Wade. You need not let Stephen have him again. Remember.” “All right, sir—all right,” muttered the hostler, glancing at Frank in a side-long manner. “You knows your business, sir, an’ I’m here to take your orders, sir.” The hostler had several assistants, and they were on hand to care for the animals just brought in. Kenneth showed Frank where to leave his wheel, and then Merry followed the youth into the house. CHAPTER XXI—TWO ENCOUNTERS “Vale,” grunted Hans, as he stretched himself on the ground in the shade of some shrubbery, “uf dese don’t peat der pand, you vos a liar!” “Wal, I’m swuzzled ef it ain’t pretty gol darn slick,” agreed Ephraim, thrusting his hands into his pockets and looking around admiringly. “It’s queer haow Frank falls inter sech snaps as these. Heer we be invited to stay right heer at this place an’ make aourselves to hum jest as long as we want to.” “And I feel as if I could remain here forever,” grunted Bruce, from a comfortable hammock, of which he had taken immediate possession on seeing it. “There’s something soothing and restful about this place that agrees with my nerves and promises balm and healing for my constitution that has been shattered by Arkansaw chills. It’s simply great!” “It is rather jolly,” said the voice of Harry from the cool shadows of a vine-covered arbor. “But it’s tame it’d be afther a bit, me b’ys,” declared Barney Mulloy, who was leaning against the trunk of a tree. “It’s sbort we’re lookin’ afther, an’ it’s ded quoiet here.” “Mr. Kenneth St. Ives promises us some sport if we care to remain,” put in Bart Hodge, quietly. “Phwat sort av sbort do yez think they can scare up here?” asked Barney, with a trace of contempt in his voice. “It’s croquet we moight play, but thot’s altogither too excoiting.” “Yaw,” grunted Hans; “dot growkay likes me, for id don’d peen so much drouble to blay him. Der balls can knock me apoud shust so easy as nefer vas.” “Frank and Jack seem to be enjoying some mild sport,” said Harry, as the click of billiard balls and Merriwell’s infectious laugh came from the open windows of a large summerhouse in the shrubbery close at hand. “Those fellows never seem to care about resting,” grunted Browning. “They will wear themselves out long before they are old men, unless they let up in their wild career.” All of the boys had reached Springbrook Farm, and Toots was taking care of their wheels. They had been left to themselves for a time, while Preston St. Ives and Kenneth went away to see that proper arrangements were made for the entertainment of their guests. It had not taken Frank and Jack long to find the billiard table and get into a game, pulling off their jackets to it, as if they were in deadly earnest. As the boys lolled there in the shade, they saw Harry Harden and Iva St. Ives come down a walk and pass near them, chatting and laughing, seeming well satisfied with each other’s society.