CHAPTER XVI.
TAMING THE COLT.
"WHAT in the world is that boy doing?" said Mrs. Jo to herself, as she watched Dan running round the half-mile triangle as if for a wager. He was all alone, and seemed possessed by some strange desire to run himself into a fever, or break his neck; for, after several rounds, he tried leaping walls, and turning somersaults up the avenue, and finally dropped down on the grass before the door as if exhausted.
"Are you training for a race, Dan?" asked Mrs. Jo, from the window where she sat.
He looked up quickly, and stopped panting to answer, with a laugh,—
"No; I'm only working off my steam."
"Can't you find a cooler way of doing it? You will be ill if you tear about so in such warm weather," said Mrs. Jo, laughing also, as she threw him out a great palm-leaf fan.
"Can't help it. I must run somewhere," answered Dan, with such an odd expression in his restless eyes, that Mrs. Jo was troubled, and asked, quickly,—
"Is Plumfield getting too narrow for you?"
"I wouldn't mind if it was a little bigger. I like it
