The barn was speedily searched, but the tramps had taken their departure, and soon they discovered the track of the rascals, leading across the fields to another road. “I believe they left almost as soon as we did,” said Joe. “They knew we’d come back with help.” “Shall we follow?” asked Harry. “Av course,” replied Andy Dugan. “It’s getting rather dark,” went on Joe. “I’m afraid they have given us the slip.” The matter was talked over, and it was decided that all of the Dugans should go forward, and Joe and Harry were to follow if they could find the mare. If not, they were to tramp back to the Dugan homestead and await news. Half an hour was spent by the two boys in looking for the runaway steed, and by that time both could hardly walk. “I wish I was at the Dugan house this instant,” said Harry. “Ditto myself, Harry. And I wish I had my watch and chain back. Did you notice, the tramps didn’t touch the bags of nuts.” “I guess they were too excited to remember them. Maybe they thought we’d come back quicker than we did.” The boys rested for awhile at the barn, and then, with their bags of nuts on their shoulders, set out on the roadway once again. “Tired out, are ye,” said Mrs. Dugan, on seeing them. “Where are the others?” They told their story, to which she listened with many a nod of her head. “The ould b’y take that mare!” she cried. “Sure an’ didn’t she run away wid me wance an’ nearly scare me to death, so she did. Andy must trade her th’ furst chanct he gits.” She had prepared a hot supper and invited the boys to sit down, which they did willingly, for, as Harry expressed it, “they were hollow clear down to their shoes.” The meal was just finished when one of the little children, who was at the window gazing into the oncoming darkness, set up a shout: “There’s Kitty now!” “Who’s Kitty?” asked Joe. “Sure an it’s the mare. She’s walkin’ in the yard just as if nothin’ had happened at all!” The youngster was right, and by the time the boys were outside the mare was standing meekly by the barn door, waiting to be put in her stall. “Now ain’t she aggravatin’?” came from Mrs. Dugan. “Ye can’t bate her when she looks loike that, can ye? Poor Kitty! It’s a fool thing that ye are entoirely!” And she hurried out, opened the stable and let the mare find her proper place inside. “Fer sech a thrick, ye’ll git only half yer supper this night,” she added, shaking her fist at the animal. The boys knew that they would be expected home, and waited anxiously for news of the Dugans. Fully an hour and a half passed, before they came back, worn out and downcast. “They give us the shlip,” said Andy Dugan. “They came around be the lake road an’ thet’s the last we could find av thim.” “And I guess that’s the last of my watch,” added Joe, soberly. Andy Dugan had a faithful old horse in his stable and this animal he harnessed to his family carriage, an old affair that had seen far better days.