For a wonder, the stage contained but three passengers, two old ladies and a fine-looking, tall, athletic young man. The latter, however, had his head out of the window instantly, with: “What’s the matter, driver?” “Boys fightin’ in the road, sir.” “Fighting? I declare!” And the stranger was out on level ground immediately. Even the vagabonds loosened their hold in consideration of the new arrival, and his sternly uttered reproofs and expostulations were replied to with a sullen: “None of yer bisness. He’s a-takin’ away aour paound caows, an’ we’re a-lickin’ of him, that’s all.” “Not much, they ain’t,” said Zeb, sturdily. “Bob, come here. There now, I’m ready again.” “Ready for what, my young friend?” asked the stranger, for he could not but see the difference between Zeb and the other two, for all his bloody nose and disordered apparel. “You don’t mean to fight any more?” “Don’t I?” exclaimed Zeb. “I mean to drive home Dr. Dryer’s cows if I fight all day.” “Dr. Dryer’s cows? Dr. Dryer, of the Ogleport Academy?” asked the stranger. “Yes, Solomon,” said Zeb. “That’s the man. Those are his cows down the road there. Got away last night. I came after ’em and found these Rodney rascals driving ’em to the pound. Of course they can’t have ’em.” “Of course not!” exclaimed the stranger. “You’re perfectly right, my young friend. If that’s your horse yonder, just mount him and we’ll see if there’ll be any more trouble.” The three vagabonds, for the smaller one had now come running up, took a good look at the stranger, another at the pugnacious attitude of Zeb, another at Bob, who was evidently getting dangerously impatient. They looked with one accord at what was left of their big, yellow dog, now limping and yelping up the road, and then, with many a threat and whine and morsel of smothered abuse, they slowly sneaked away after their dog. Zeb was on the bay colt’s back quickly enough, and the dun heifer and her friends moved cheerfully on before him in the direction of Ogleport. CHAPTER VIII AN UNEXPECTED MEETING If Bar Vernon’s companion in the carriage during his ride up-town that morning had been Judge Danvers, instead of Dr. Manning, he would doubtless have been subjected to a sort of conversational “cross-examination.” Indeed, he had half expected something of the sort, but the worthy doctor having fairly got rid of his pecuniary load and the troubles connected with it, had mentally gone back to his patients and was not a whit more talkative than his inborn politeness demanded of him. Indeed, on arriving at the house, the doctor only waited to introduce Bar to Mrs. Manning, after a very brief talk with that lady in an inner room, and tell her to “send for Val,” and then he was off to the reception of his long-delayed “callers” and the performance of his daily routine of healing duty.