clapped her hands
in riotous glee. Without a word she untied the bridle from the tree,
vaulted into the saddle, drew me up in front of her, and before I could
put a question we were pacing briskly down the hill. At the bottom we
struck into a cross-road leading to Uncle Carter's plantation. Cousin
Molly Belle was laughing too heartily to speak distinctly, and I joined
in with all my heart, with a very imperfect appreciation of the extent
of the practical joke. Mr. Frank Morton would not have to walk home. He
had only to go to his brother's house when he missed Snap and borrow a
horse, and Snap would be sent back safely to him in good time.

"What d'you s'pose he'll say when he comes to the fence and Snap isn't
there?" queried I, at length.

"Oh, _don't_ I wish I were hiding somewhere near enough to hear and see
him!" another and yet more infectious outburst. "That would be the best
part of the joke. I'm going to turn Snap loose when we get to our outer
gate, and hit him a crack with my switch and start him toward home.
He'll not tell tales out of school--will you, old boy?" slapping his
neck affectionately. "Mr. Frank Morton will never guess why the horse
thief let such a fine animal get away from him, when once he had got
him. I can hear him now, telling me the story, and I'll look as grave as
a dozen judges, and wonder as hard as he does--and--_Hark!_"

We were, perhaps, half a mile from the place where we had found Snap,
but, as I have said, Tom's Hill was a stony ledge, running like a sharp
backbone between fertile fields, and we heard from afar off the
clattering hoofs of a horse pressed to his utmost speed.

[Illustration]

Chapter VIII

My First Lie, and What Came of It.

[Illustration]

"He is after us!" exclaimed Cousin Molly Belle, and brought down her
switch stingingly upon Snap's flanks.

Tightening her arm about me, she urged him from canter to gallop, from a
gallop to a run. The trees swept by us like lightning; the wind tore the
breath from our lungs, but I had no thought of fear. My cousin was a
fearless rider, and the perfectly broken hunter under us flew as
steadily and as straight as a blue martin. Against the back of my head
Cousin Molly Belle's heart was pounding like an unbalanced trip-hammer.
I wondered if it were possible that she was frightened, and twisted my
face around to get a glimpse of hers. It was as white as a sheet, and
her teeth were set hard upon her lower lip. Wit