ng, then dropped down
again. It seemed hardly fair that Eugenia should not share the
responsibility, yet she knew her too well to ask her to go back to the
house with her. Several times she started up and then sank back before
she could make up her mind. Finally she walked over to a fence corner on
the other side of the bonfire, where the water-bucket stood. The ponies
were hitched below in the ravine. So intently was the group above
watching the charades, that no one saw her when she scrambled down the
steep path leading into the ravine, and began untying Lad. Climbing into
the saddle, she gave one regretful look at the party she was leaving
behind her, and resolutely turned his head toward home.

It was lighter out in the open, when they had left the shelter of the
woods, and she guided the pony down the hill, across the pasture, and
through the gate, glad that she did not have to go all the way in
darkness. Lad, knowing that he was going home, dashed down the road,
choosing his own direction when the lonely highway branched. He knew the
way better than his little rider.

She looked around her, thinking how long the way seemed when she had to
travel it all by herself. She was riding faster than she had ever ridden
before, and yet it seemed hours since she had left the mill when she at
last reached the great gate with the avenue of locusts stretching beyond
it.

Springing off the pony when it stopped at the steps, she rushed into the
hall, snatched the letter from the table, and ran out again, only
pausing for a hasty glance at the clock. Mom Beck, who had heard the
clatter of hoofs, the quick step on the porch, and the wild dash out
again, feared that something was amiss, and came running to the door.

"What undah the sun is the mattah, honey?" she called, but Betty was far
down the avenue, and never paused to look back.

Lad, turned away from home, was not so willing to run now, and Betty
could hear the train whistling up the road. It was the seven o'clock
mail train.

"Oh, Lad, hurry!" she urged. "Dear, good old Lad, _please_ hurry! I'm so
afraid we won't get there in time."

Lad looked around at her and stopped still in the road. The train
whistled nearer. Guiding the pony to the fence, Betty stood up and broke
a switch from an overhanging tree.

"I hate to do it, you poor old fellow," she said, "but I must. You
_must_ get to the post-office in time." Urged along by the switch and
her tearful pleadings, L