Seconds passed. Then the dog disappeared at a sharp bend in the road. Losing sight of him for a moment nerved Morgan to a sudden spurt. With all his power impelling him he, too, rounded the corner--and ran headlong into two horsemen who had been jogging peacefully and unsuspectingly along the quiet and seemingly deserted highway. What a reckoning there was! Never was such confusion! Lawyer Buckley slid from the back of his pony and his books broke from the strap and were scattered over the road; Dr. Pierce’s saddle bags burst open and pills and bandages fell out as if to offer their help in the emergency. Morgan, realizing he had caused all the trouble, kept his presence of mind admirably, and stood firm and motionless where his front feet had plowed into the earth at his sudden halt. David did not lose his seat, but the stop, without any warning, almost threw him over Morgan’s head. When things had steadied a bit, and explanations and apologies made, David noticed for the first time, as he put his hand up to remove his hat, and wipe the perspiration from his brow, that his beaver was missing. Under the very feet of Dr. Pierce’s nag, who stood still snorting her expostulations, it was found. Lawyer Buckley picked it up, shaking his head with ill-concealed satisfaction. “’Tis but a crushed and torn rag,” he said, brushing it the wrong way with the sleeve of his coat; “but you have that young Morgan to thank for the prank.” At these words Morgan was more mortified than ever, though he could not help glancing furtively about for the dog and pricking his ears back and forth for sounds. Soon he espied and heard him a short way ahead, yelping from the cover of his owner’s hut, surrounded by a protecting and gaping crowd of small bare-foot children who had assembled from the other side of the house to find out what the matter was. It is not necessary to relate with what fallen crest Morgan bore his rider home after the day closed in. The hat, so lately the envy of the whole town, hidden under his rider’s coat, to be laid away until Mistress Hannah could restore it to some of its first magnificence. CHAPTER XIV. MORGAN MAKES A TRIP TO BOSTON. For several days Morgan showed his regret at the fate of the beaver by neither romping nor playing. When David and himself were on their way from place to place and resting at noon, he cropped grass in a very staid and dignified manner, whilst David sat in the shade and ate his luncheon of light wheaten cakes and cheese, the two things for which Mistress Hannah was famous. On these trips they sometimes met the Boston-Canada stage coaches, carrying the mail, and they would stand one side and watch the horses running at full speed over the rough roads; the horn winding a lusty warning to private coach, curricle or rider, that might be approaching from the other direction round a sharp bend in the way.