," she declared. "I mean to keep this always because Aunt Anne Rose
gave it to me."

The black colt sped along as if it was nothing but play to pull the big
chaise. The girls told Mr. Freeman of all that Aunt Anne Rose had said
about the big farm, and of her own loneliness when her husband and sons
were away. Rose noticed that, although her father listened, his glance
traveled sharply over the pastures as they went along; and that now and
then he leaned out for a clearer view of some horse feeding near the
road, and she realized that he was keeping an outlook for Lady.

But there was no sign of the pretty brown horse, and Mr. Freeman's
inquiries at houses and in villages along the way did not give him any
news of Lady. There was so much for Anne to see and think about that she
hardly realized what a serious loss had befallen her good friends. But
as they drove down Long-acre Street, past Boston Common, and turned into
the street where the Freemans' house stood, she saw that Rose and Mr.
Freeman both looked very downcast.

"What will mother say?" Rose half whispered, as if to herself.

Mrs. Freeman was at the door to welcome them.

"And here is our little maid from Province Town," she said, putting her
arm about Anne. "You are indeed welcome, dear child; and it is a fine
time for a little girl to visit Boston."

Mr. Freeman had expected his wife to ask what had become of Lady, and
was surprised that she did not. He led the colt toward the stable, which
stood in a paved yard back of the house, and Frederick ran ahead to open
the stable door.

"Upon my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Freeman, for there in her own comfortable
stall was Lady, munching her noonday meal as if everything was just as
usual.

"The man got here last night with Lady," explained Frederick; "he was in
a great hurry to get a boat, and he told me--for mother was at a
neighbor's--that you'd be coming on to-day. Was he taking a message to
American troops? Mother said that must be his business; that you'd lend
Lady for no other reason," and the boy looked at his father
questioningly.

"I hope that may have been his errand," said Mr. Freeman, "but I fear
he was on other business. The Tories are more anxious than Americans for
boats just now," and he told the boy how Lady had been stolen. "But who
ever it was must have known me and where I live," he concluded; "'tis
not every thief who leaves the horse in its owner's stable."

"But your name is on the litt