As they reached the turn of the road, around which the horse had disappeared, they looked ahead, hoping to get a sight of the runaway. But the road twisted and turned so that it was impossible to see very far. "Hello, Mr. Johnson!" called Jed to a man who was hoeing some cabbages in a field near the highway. "Did you see our brown horse pass here a while ago?" "Was that your hoss?" asked the man, straightening up, and wiping his head with a big, red handkerchief. "Yep." "Waal, I couldn't tell whether it was a hoss or a cow, it were goin' so fast, and th' dust was so thick. I never see it so dry, not since seventy-three. I guess----" "Then the horse went on toward Fentonville?" asked Jed, interrupting the farmer, who was one of the greatest talkers in that locality. "Yep, he did that. But, as I was sayin', I ain't seen it so dry since seventy-three. That was th' year I----" "Come on, Will," spoke Jed, in a low voice. "I've heard that story a dozen times. Much obliged," he called to Mr. Johnson. "We want to catch him before the gypsies nab him," and with that the two boys ran on. "Humph!" exclaimed Mr. Johnson, as he looked after the disappearing lads. "They're in a turrible hurry. I ain't never seen it so dry since seventy-three, and that year I----" Then he seemed to realize that he had no audience, and he began to hoe the cabbages again. Meanwhile Jed and Will ran on. When they came to a straight stretch of road, they looked eagerly down it, but they were not rewarded by a sight of the horse. "I didn't think he would run so long," remarked Will. "Especially on a hot day like this," added Jed. "I'm going to slow down a bit. You're so thin, Will, the heat doesn't have a good chance to get at you." Jed was inclined to fleshiness. "We'd ought to have taken the other horse to chase after Pete on," said Will. "Ned couldn't carry both of us." "I didn't mean we were both to ride him." "Oh, I suppose I could walk, and you'd ride." "I'm not particular. But it's too late to think of that now. I wonder why we can't see him? He must have turned off somewhere." "Very likely. Here comes a man. We'll ask him." Down the road the boys saw approaching a rather elderly man. He walked slowly, leaning heavily on a cane, and over his shoulder was a bundle. "Looks like a pedler," commented Jed. "Maybe he's one of the gypsy gang," suggested Will. "Guess not. They very seldom travel alone. No, he's a white man, but he's tanned enough to be a gypsy," went on Jed, as the stranger approached closer. "Morning, boys," said the man, pleasantly. "Hot, ain't it? My, you look all played out! Is the sheriff after you?" "The sheriff?" repeated Jed, for the words were somewhat puzzling to him. "Yes. Out West, where I hail from, a man doesn't run the way you have unless the sheriff gets after him. And then usually he does his running on a horse."