"He's running away with Dave!"
"Look out for the tree branches!"
Dave paid no attention to the cries. He had all he could do to keep from falling under the animal. Away went boy and mule, over the rough rocks in a fashion which nearly jounced the breath from the rider's body. Then, just as they came close to some low-hanging trees where Dave felt certain he would be hurt, the mule turned again, leaped for the shore, and sped out on the ice of the river.
"So that's your game!" cried Dave, between his set teeth. "All right; if you want to run you can carry me all the way to Oak Hall!"
Away went the mule, as if accustomed to run over the ice all his life. He was a sure-footed creature and took only one or two slides, which amounted to nothing. The boys on the shore saw Dave and mule disappear in the darkness and set up a cry of wonder.
"Hi! come back here, Dave!" sang out Roger.
"If you are going to ride to the Hall take us with you!" yelled Shadow.
"He won't stop till he's tired out," said Henshaw. "And goodness only knows where he'll carry Dave."
"Trust Dave to take care of himself," answered the senator's son. "I never saw him get into a hole but that he managed to get out again."
