Seeing it by
daylight the trouble was not hard to diagnose. A long, jagged piece
of slate was wedged in the frog of the foot. I easily wrenched it
out, heated some water, and gave the hoof another sponging. It
would be all right when shod once more. But where was the shoe?
I gave the horse some oats, cooked an egg and a cup of coffee for
myself at the little kerosene stove, and broke up a dog biscuit
for Bock. I marvelled once more at the completeness of Parnassus'
furnishings. Bock helped me to scour the pan. He sniffed eagerly
at the cap when I showed it to him, and wagged his tail.
It seemed to me that the only thing I could do was to leave
Parnassus and the animals where they were and retrace my steps as
far as the Pratt farm. Undoubtedly Mr. Pratt would be glad to sell
me a horse-shoe and send his hired man to do the job for me. I could
not drive Peg as she was, with a sore foot and without a shoe. I
judged Parnassus would be quite safe: the lane seemed to be a lonely
one leading to a deserted quarry. I tied Bock to the steps to act as
a guard, took my purse and the Professor's cap with me, locked the
door of the van, and set off along the back track.
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