from side to side like a boat in a storm.

'What are you doing?' yelled the herdsman. 'I'll report you, that I
will, trying to steal my sheep.'

'This is very exciting,' whispered Harry. 'I like driving with you,
Mother.'

But Mother was not enjoying herself. Here was she, the wife of a Justice
of the Peace, apparently stealing a flock of sheep in broad daylight. At
this moment she could have killed Tim.

'This is dreadful, Mary,' she murmured. 'What can we do? Oh, these
idiots of sheep, why won't they stop?'

But the terrified sheep, instead of stopping, only increased their
speed. Away they flew over the Common, and behind them, in hot pursuit,
galloped Tim, while round both sheep and governess cart barked the
frantic sheep-dog.

On, on they raced, over hillocks, through gorse bushes, down into
treacherous holes, till at last the gate leading out upon a narrow road
was reached. Through this surged the sheep, and close behind them tore
Tim. The cart gave a bone-shaking dump as it took the descent from grass
to hard road, and Mary, who at the beginning of Tim's flight, had opened
the door, was thrown out.

Suddenly a motor was seen coming towards them, along the narrow road,
and Mrs. Raeburn gave a gasp of fear.

'Hold your hand up, Harry. Quick--quick!'

Harry, eager to assist, raised both his arms.

'Hullo!' called a familiar voice: the motor came to a sudden standstill,
and out of it jumped Major Raeburn.

'What in all the earth are you doing, Maud?' he said in a voice of the
greatest astonishment, as he walked towards them; but Mrs. Raeburn
motioned him back.

'Turn the motor across the road as fast as you can, and don't let one of
these sheep pass it!'

So the panting sheep were stopped, and Tim's race was at an end.

'And now, good people, please explain yourselves,' continued the Major.

'Oh, Jack,' burst forth his wife, 'we have had the most _awful_ morning
with Tim. He has smashed Mrs. Laurence's gate, run off after these
sheep, Mary is thrown out, and I expect is lying dead somewhere, and I
don't know where the drover is.'

'And, Father,' interrupted Harry in his shrill treble, 'we have had
_such_ an exciting drive! Mother can drive Tim just beautifully!'

'Well, look here!' said the Major, smiling, 'I suppose I must stay here
and speak to the drover of the sheep. You two had better go home across
the fields. I will drive Tim home,' he added, with a look in the
direction of the donkey.