"Very well, Tad; the place is as much yours as it is mine," agreed
Mrs. Butler, indulgently.

"And I have been thinking of something else, too--something for
you. But I shall not tell you about that now. I am going to keep it as
a surprise for you when I get it ready," announced the boy
mysteriously. "If you have nothing for me to do just now, I think I'll
go out to Mr. Langdon's farm and bring the mare in. I shall want to
spend the evening making her comfortable."

Mrs. Butler gave a ready permission, and Tad hounded away, running
every foot of the mile and a half to the Langdon farm, where old Jinny
was turned over to him, together with a brand new halter and an old
harness which the grocer had directed his man to furnish with the
mare.

Tad petted and fondled the wheezy old creature, who nosed him
appreciatively.

"How old is Jinny?" he asked.

"Going on twelve," answered the farm-hand laconically.

Tad opened the mare's mouth, which he studied critically.

"Humph!" he grunted, flashing a glance of disapproval at the
farm-hand.

"What's that, younker? I said as she was going on twelve."