xious about the dog. What caused him to shout and then break into a
run was the sight of Joshua, the old horse, galloping at top speed along
the road to the south. Even his sedate and ancient calm had not been
proof against the apparition which burst from the kitchen. In his fright
he had broken his halter rope and managed--a miracle, considering his
age--to leap the pasture fence and run.

That horse was the apple of Seth Atkins's eye. The lightkeeper believed
him to be a wonder of strength and endurance, and never left the lights
without cautioning his helper to keep an eye on Joshua, "'cause if
anything happened to him I'd have to hunt a mighty long spell to find
another that could tech him." Brown accepted this trust with composure,
feeling morally certain that the only thing likely to happen to
Joshua was death from overeating or old age. And now something had
happened--Joshua was running away.

There was but one course to take; Brown must leave the government's
property in its own care and capture that horse. He had laughed until
running seemed an impossibility, but run he must, and did, after a
fashion. But Joshua was running, too, and he was frightened. He galloped
like a colt, and the assistant lightkeeper gained upon him very slowly.

The road was crooked and hilly, and the sand in its ruts was deep. Brown
would not have gained at all, but for the fact that the horse, from long
habit, kept to the roadway and never tried short cuts. His pursuer did,
and, therefore, just as Joshua entered the grove on the bluff above
Pounddug Slough, Brown caught up with him and made a grab at the end of
the trailing halter. He missed it, and the horse took a fresh start.

The road through the grove was overgrown with young trees and bushes,
and amid these the animal had a distinct advantage. Not until the outer
edge of the grove was reached did the panting assistant get another
opportunity at the rope. This time he seized it and held on.

"Whoa!" he shouted. "Whoa!"

But Joshua did not "whoa" at once. He kept on along the edge of the
high, sandy slope. Brown, from the tail of his eye, caught a glimpse
of the winding channel of the Slough beneath him, of a small schooner
heeled over on the mud flat at its margin, and of the figure of a man at
work beside it.

"Whoa!" he ordered once more. "Whoa, Josh! stand still!"

Perhaps the horse would have stood still--he seemed about to do so--but
from the distance, somewhere on th