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But he tore past, his horse still on the run, the wagon swaying wildly as he turned the corner beyond the Merrithew sugar orchard. "Well, I swow," grunted Mr. Nute, and licked on. The usual crowd of horse-swappers was gathered in the town-house yard, and beheld this tumultuous passage with professional interest.
And, recognizing the first selectman-elect of Smyrna, their interest had an added flavor. Next came the two teams containing the constables, lashing past on the run. They paid no attention to the amazed yells of inquiry from the horse-swappers, and disappeared behind the sugar orchard. "You've got me!" said Uncle Silas Drake to the first out-rush of the curious from the town house.
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