“Can your horse talk?” she asked.

“Never knew him to, before,” replied the boy.

“Those were the first words I ever said,” called out the horse, who had overheard them, “and I can’t explain why I happened to speak then. This is a nice scrape you’ve got me into, isn’t it?”

“As for that, we are in the same scrape ourselves,” answered Dorothy, cheerfully. “But never mind; something will happen pretty soon.”

“Of course,” growled the horse, “and then we shall be sorry it happened.”

Zeb gave a shiver. All this was so terrible and unreal that he could not understand it at all, and so had good reason to be afraid.