thing--'

'Thank you, sir,' Kit replied; and quite seriously too, for this
announcement seemed to free him from the suspicion which the Notary had
hinted.

'--But,' resumed the old gentleman, 'perhaps I may want to know
something more about you, so tell me where you live, and I'll put it
down in my pocket-book.'

Kit told him, and the old gentleman wrote down the address with his
pencil. He had scarcely done so, when there was a great uproar in the
street, and the old lady hurrying to the window cried that Whisker had
run away, upon which Kit darted out to the rescue, and the others
followed.

It seemed that Mr Chuckster had been standing with his hands in his
pockets looking carelessly at the pony, and occasionally insulting him
with such admonitions as 'Stand still,'--'Be quiet,'--'Wo-a-a,' and the
like, which by a pony of spirit cannot be borne. Consequently, the
pony being deterred by no considerations of duty or obedience, and not
having before him the slightest fear of the human eye, had at length
started off, and was at that moment rattling down the street--Mr
Chuckster, with his hat off and a pen behind his ear, hanging on in the
rear of the chaise and making futile attempts to draw it the other way,
to the unspeakable admiration of all beholders. Even in running away,
however, Whisker was perverse, for he had not gone very far when he
suddenly stopped, and before assistance could be rendered, commenced
backing at nearly as quick a pace as he had gone forward. By these
means Mr Chuckster was pushed and hustled to the office again, in a
most inglorious manner, and arrived in a state of great exhaustion and
discomfiture.

The old lady then stepped into her seat, and Mr Abel (whom they had
come to fetch) into his. The old gentleman, after reasoning with the
pony on the extreme impropriety of his conduct, and making the best
amends in his power to Mr Chuckster, took his place also, and they
drove away, waving a farewell to the Notary and his clerk, and more
than once turning to nod kindly to Kit as he watched them from the road.

CHAPTER 21

Kit turned away and very soon forgot the pony, and the chaise, and the
little old lady, and the little old gentleman, and the little young
gentleman to boot, in thinking what could have become of his late
master and his lovely grandchild, who were the fountain-head of all his
meditations. Still casting about for some plausible means of
accounting for their