"
The horse whinnied again, and again looked inquiringly at his
young driver, but the latter was not master of the situation, and
was obliged to disregard the mute appeal.
"I wonder the robber didn't carry off the horse," thought Harry.
"I suppose he had his reasons. It isn't likely he left him out of
his regard for me."
Two hours passed, and Harry still found himself a prisoner. His
constrained position became still more uncomfortable. He longed
for the power of jumping up and stretching his legs, now numb and
chilled, but the cord was strong, and defied his efforts. No person
had passed, not had he heard any sound as he lay there, except the
occasional whinny of the horse which was tied as well as himself,
and did not appear to enjoy his confinement any better.
It was at this moment that Harry's heart leaped with sudden hope,
as he heard in the distance the sound of a whistle. It might be a
boy, or it might be a man; but, as he listened intently, he perceived
that it was coming nearer.
"I hope I can make him hear," thought Harry, earnestly.
It was a boy of about his own age, who was advancing along the road
from which he had turned into the lane. The boy was not alone, as
it appeared, for a large dog ran before him. The dog first noticed
the horse and buggy, and next our hero, lying on the ground, and,
concluding that something was wrong, began to bark violently,
circling uncomfortably near Harry, against whom he seemed to cherish
hostile designs.
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