style="font-size:15px;"> “Well, I want to know!” cried the woman, when the boy returned to the car. “How did you do that? What did you do to Jonas to make him change his mind?”
“This is Mrs. Heard, Neale,” said Ruth, smiling. “You sometimes do prove to be a smart boy. What did you do to him?”
Neale grinned broadly. He had been used to horses all his life and he knew a few tricks of the Gypsies and the horse-traders.
“I just told him something,” the boy said.
“Oo-ee!” cried Tess. “Did you really whisper to him?”
Neale nodded.
“What did you whisper to the pony?” asked Dot, wide-eyed.
Agnes snapped, thinking Neale was fooling her: “I don’t believe it!”
“Yes, I whispered to him,” said the boy, seriously.
“Oh, Neale!” remonstrated Ruth.
“Well! For all I ever heard!” exclaimed Mrs. Heard. “What did you whisper to that vexatious brute of a pony?”
“If I told what it was, that would spoil the charm,” said Neale, gravely.
“Nonsense!” ejaculated Agnes, flushing.
“Now you know that is ridiculous,” said Ruth, inclined to be exasperated with the boy as much as she had been with the pony.
“No. It is a fact,” said the boy, decidedly.
“Now, you know that isn’t so, Neale O’Neil!” cried Agnes.
“I assure you it is. Anyway, they say if you tell it – what you say – to anybody else, the horse will balk again right away. It’s a secret between him and the person – ”
“I never heard such a ridiculous thing in all my life,” gasped Mrs. Heard.
“I think you are not very polite, Neale,” said Ruth, quite sternly.
“Now see here!” cried the badgered boy, getting rather vexed himself. “I tell you I can’t tell you – ”
“You’re talking anything but English,” complained Agnes.
“Well, maybe I didn’t talk English into the pony’s ear,” retorted Neale, grinning suddenly again. “Anyway, the old Gyp who taught me that trick told me I must never say the words aloud, or to anybody who would not make proper use of the magic formula.”
“Oh, shucks!” exclaimed Agnes, in disgust. “Tell me. I’ll try it on Billy Bumps when he balks,” said Tess, in a small voice.
At that they all laughed and Neale got in behind the steering wheel again. The two older girls were much interested in Mrs. Heard and that woman was evidently pleased with the sisters.
“Why, yes; I ought to know you Corner House girls. Goodness knows I’ve heard enough about you – and my name being Heard, I heard a lot!” and she laughed. “But you see, I live away on this side of town, and don’t go to your church; so we have never met before.”
“I am sure the loss has been ours,” said Ruth, politely. “I hope your pony will not balk again to-day.”
“Goodness knows! He’ll balk if he takes a notion to. I don’t suppose what you whispered to him is guaranteed to be a permanent cure, is it, boy?” she asked Neale O’Neil.
“No, ma’am,” grinned the boy.
“And you expected to go to Marchenell Grove to-day, Mrs. Heard?” Ruth said, reflectively, looking at Agnes enquiringly although she spoke to the mistress of the fat brown pony.
“I had thought to. Philly Collinger was going to take me. But if he doesn’t recover his car he’ll not take me auto riding very soon again.”
“Well,” said Ruth, having received a nod of acquiescence from Agnes, “I don’t see why you shouldn’t go there to-day just the same. Won’t you come with us? There’s room in the car.”
“Goody! Of course she can!” cried Agnes, clapping her hands.
“I think that would be real nice,” agreed Tess.
Dot moved over at once to make room. “She can sit beside me and the Alice-doll,” she proclaimed.
“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Mrs. Heard, her face alight with pleasure at this united invitation. “You are just the nicest girls I ever met. I wonder if I’d better?”
“Of course,” said Ruth. “You can find some place to leave the pony. Or Neale can, I’m sure.”
“Why, I know these people right in the very next house,” said Mrs. Heard. “Indeed I expected to call there if Jonas ever got that far.”
Neale got briskly out of the car again. “I’ll go and unharness him,” he said, cheerfully. “You just find out where I shall put him. He’d rather have you ride in an automobile than drag you himself,” and he laughed.
“Did – did he tell you so, Neale, when you were talking with him?” asked Dot, in amazement.
Then they all laughed.
CHAPTER III – WHAT MRS. HEARD TOLD
In ten minutes the Kenway car was moving again. Jonas had been put up at the barn of Mrs. Heard’s friends, near which the pony had balked, and Neale soon whisked them out of sight of the place.
“This – this is just delightful,” sighed Mrs. Heard. “Especially after sitting behind that brute of a pony. I do love an automobile.”
“So do I!” Agnes cried. “I’d rather ride in this car than in a golden chariot – I know I would.”
“I don’t know how they run chariots, nowadays,” said Neale, chuckling; “whether by horse-power or gas. But sometimes a car balks, you know.”
“Not so often as that Jonas,” declared Mrs. Heard. “I’ve been out with my nephew a lot. His is a nice car. I hope he’ll find it.”
“Why, of course the thieves will be apprehended,” said Ruth. “What good are the police?”
“When it comes to autos,” said Neale, slyly, “the police are mostly good for stopping you and getting you fined.”
“Well, don’t you dare drive too fast and get us fined, Neale O’Neil,” ordered Ruth, sternly.
“No, ma’am,” he returned. But Agnes whispered in his ear:
“I don’t care how fast you run it, Neale. I love to go fast.”
“You’ll be a speed fiend, Aggie,” he declared. “That’s what you’ll be.”
“Oh! I want to drive. I must learn.”
“You’ll have to ask Mr. Howbridge about that,” Neale told her.
“Oh!”
