The latter did not flinch a hair’s breadth, however, although he now seemed wide awake enough. “Father,” said he, suddenly, “I see what the doctor’s after. I’ll just put our cows in the pasture--not half an hour’s work. Then you have the bay saddled, and I’ll ride off after his critters. Get a lot of the boys to help me. We’ll find ’em for you, Doctor. You threatened to drown me, day before yesterday, and I’m glad to have a chance of returning good for evil.” He was off like a shot, and even his grim-visaged father more than half smiled, as he remarked: “Best you can do, Doctor. I’ll have the bay colt ready for him when he gets back. Not another boy in the whole valley’d be so sure to make a find of it.” Dr. Dryer looked more solemn than ever, and shook his head ominously, for the thought which had brought him to Deacon Fuller’s had hardly been permitted a fair expression. Halfway down the path to the barn, Zeb was met by still another interested party, who rose lazily from the ground at his approach, cocked one dilapidated ear at him, and mutely inquired: “Well, and what’s to be done now?” “All right, Bob,” said Zeb, “but it’s too soon to wag your tail yet. We must take all day to it. If we should find ’em right off, it’d look bad. We’ll tend our own cows first.” Bob stopped the tail-wagging, though there could have been very little effort required to wag such a stump as that, and trotted off after his master with a thoroughly canine faith that there was fun to come of some kind. A large, mastiff-built brindled dog was Bob, for whom all the other village dogs had an unbounded respect, if not esteem. He was one of those dogs that no sane human being ever tries to steal. Zeb’s usual morning “chores” were finished up in rapid style, even for him, and by that time, too, he had succeeded in getting messages to half a dozen of his most trusted friends. It looked very much, even to the watching eyes of Dr. Dryer, as if the “hunt” were to be made in earnest, and Effie stood behind him and Mrs. Dryer at the window, thinking what a grand time of it the boys would have, and half wishing she could join them. “It’s the least he can do,” remarked Mrs. Dryer. “I do hope nothing has happened to that dun heifer. Those cows never ran away of their own accord.” If they had only been near enough to Deacon Fuller’s front gate a few minutes later, they could have heard as well as seen. “You see, boys,” said Zeb, “you’re all to hunt for ’em, but I’m going on horseback, and of course I’ll find ’em.” “We might, some of us.” “No, you mightn’t,” responded Zeb. “Bill Jones, you and Hy Allen scout out towards the lake. Take your hooks and lines in your pockets and be gone all day. If you catch any fish, you can give ’em away to somebody.” “Not if we don’t get back till after dark,” said Hy Allen. “That’s so,” said Zeb. “Now, the rest of you might try the East hill. I’m going on the North road, over into Rodney.”