Prudy thought precisely the same; also Miss Dimple, who looked upon the whole affair as a joke, intended for her amusement.
When Mr.Parlin came home to tea, and heard the story, he did not blame Susy in the least for her indignation, but started off for the blacksmith's with the limping pony, saying he meant to "inquire into the business." "May I go with you ?" cried Susy.
"Me, too ?" said Prudy, echoed by Dotty.
"Only Susy," replied their father; "she may go if she likes." Susy very much wondered what her father was going to do.

As they approached the shop, she saw, standing at the door, the man whose face looked as if it had been "rubbed on a pen-wiper." "Mr.Grimes," said Mr.Parlin, in a pleasanter manner than Susy thought was at all necessary, "Mr.Grimes, I believe I owe you for shoeing this pony." While Mr.Grimes was making the change, Mr.Parlin added,-- "How happens it, my friend, that this little animal bears such marks of ill treatment?
See how he limps.

Look at this gash." "O," said Mr.Grimes, "he lamed himself by kicking out against the coal-box; he's a nervous thing." Mr.Parlin then told the boys' story.
"It is not so, upon my word and honor, sir," replied sooty-faced Mr.
Grimes, with great amazement.

"I'll leave it to Mr.Fox." Mr.Fox, and two or three other men, declared very positively that they had seen little Wings beating himself against the coal-box; and one of them pointed out to Mr.Parlin the blood-stain on the edge of the wood.
"You can't trust much to what boys say, especially such harum-scarum fellows as Ed Johnson," added Mr.Fox.

"I shouldn't wonder, now, Grimes, if he and that Piper boy got their tempers up, and tried to spite you, for ordering them out of the shop.