“Huh! Got a new boy, it seems,” said one of the small drivers, as he noticed Lightfoot and Mike.
“Yes, an’ if he tries to take away any of my customers he’ll get in trouble,” said another, shaking his fist at Mike.
“Here, you boys! No quarreling!” said the manager of the goat wagons, a Mr. Marshall. “You’ll all do as I say, and I won’t have any picking on this boy. Business isn’t any too good, and I want you all to do your best.”
Mike said nothing to the other boys, but he was not afraid to take his own part.
The other goats looked at Lightfoot, and one, hitched to the wagon driven by the boy who had spoken a bit crossly to Mike, said to Lightfoot:
“From the high rocks,” answered Lightfoot.
“Do you mean the mountains?” asked another goat.
“I don’t know, but it’s over that way,” said Lightfoot, and he pointed with his horns in the direction of Mike’s home.
“Oh, he means the rocks by the squatters’ shanties!” exclaimed the goat who had first spoken. “Why, we can’t have anything to do with goats like that! We give rides to well born children. This goat comes from a very poor home indeed.
“What right have you got to come here among us?” he asked Lightfoot.
“I don’t know anything about it,” said Lightfoot. “I was driven here, and I’ll do my best to give good rides to the children. I may not have come from the mountains, but the rocks where I live are very high and sweet grass grows on top. Can any of you jump from the high rocks down on top of the widow’s shanty?”
“Thank you, we don’t live near shanties,” said another goat. “We live in the park stable.”
“Just the same that was a good jump,” remarked a quiet goat, with short horns. “I was over that way once. I think I know the place you mean,” he went on to Lightfoot, and Mike’s goat was glad to know he had one friend.
“Well, he may be a good jumper but I don’t believe he can butt hard with his horns and head,” said the ill-tempered goat, who was called Snipper from the habit he had of snipping off leaves and flowers in the park.
“I once nearly butted a trolley car off the tracks,” said Lightfoot, “and I did shove a little girl out of the way of the car.”
“Pooh! That’s nothing,” sneered Snipper. “Let’s see how hard you can butt,” and he rose up on his hind legs and aimed his head and horns at Lightfoot.