The road to the homestead followed down the river for three miles before it took to the hills. No sooner had the carryall made the turn into the River Road than the bays sprang forward so suddenly that Lewis's hat flew off backward, and for a moment he thought his head had followed. "Heh!" he called, "I've lost my hat!" "Never mind your hat, Son," shouted William. "Silas'll pick it up." The bays evidently thought he was shouting at them. They let their enormous stride out another link. The carryall plowed through the dust, rattled over pebbles, and, where the road ran damp under overhanging trees, shot four streams of mud from its flying wheels. Old William chewed steadily at the cud of tobacco he had kept tucked in his cheek during the interview at the station. His long arms were stretched full length along the taut reins. If he had only had hand-holds on them, he would have been quite content. As it was, he was grinning. "Gee, Dad!" gasped Lewis, "d'you know those horses are still _trotting_!" Leighton leaned forward. "Got a match, William?" he shouted above the creak and rattle of the carryall. "Heh?" yelled William. The bays let out another link. "Got a match?" repeated Leighton. "I want to smoke." William waved his beard at his left-hand pocket. As they struck a bit of quiet, soft road, Leighton called: "Why don't you let 'em out? You've gone and left your whip at home. How are we going to get up the hill?" The grin faded from Old William's face. "_Gid ap!_" he roared, and then the bays showed what they could really do in the way of hurrying for the doctor. The old carryall leaped a thank-you-ma'am clean. When it struck, the hickory wheels bent to the storm, but did not break. Instead, they shot their load into the air. A low-hanging branch swooped down and swept the canopy, supports and all, off the carryall. William never looked back. Lewis clung to the back of the front seat. "D-d-dad," he stuttered, "p-please don't say anything more to him! D-d'you know they're _still_ trotting?" At last the bays swung off upon the steep Hill Road, and slowed down to a fast, pulling walk. Old William dropped the reins on the dash-board, made a telling shot with tobacco juice at a sunflower three yards off, and turned to have a chat. "Glen," he said, "I reckon, after all, there's times when you c'n do without sofy pillows." "Why, William," said Leighton, still pale with fright, "If I'd had a pillow, I'd have gone fast asleep." Then he smiled. "Some of the old stock?" William nodded. "I don't mind tellin' you I ain't drove like thet sence the day me'n you--" "Never mind since when, William," broke in Leighton, sharply. "How's Mrs. Tuck?" CHAPTER XLIV "Is that the house?" asked Lewis, as they mounted the brow of the hill. Leighton nodded.