the further side and out of sight of
the others. Then, to make the exhibition realistic, Beverly drew out her
hat pin, gave it a toss to the side of the road, and the wind completed
the job by whisking her soft felt hat off her head and landing it upon
the roadside bush.

Oh, it was glorious! Five miles? What were five miles to the little
beastie which had many a time pounded off twenty-five without turning a
hair? Or to Beverly who had often ridden fifty in one day with Uncle
Athol and her brother? Just a breather. And when there swept through the
gateway of Kilton Hall a most exalted, hatless, rosy-cheeked,
dancing-eyed lassie mounted upon a most hilarious steed, the gate-keeper
came within an ace of having apoplexy, for she was a portly old body.

But Beverly did not pause for explanations. Her objective point was the
athletic field at the rear of the building and her appearance upon it
might have been regarded in the light of a distinct sensation. It would
never do to forsake too promptly the role of being run away with. There
were coaches and referees upon tennis court, cinder path and football
field, and boys galore, in every sort of athletic garb, performing every
sort of athletic stunt.

When Beverly set out to do anything she rarely omitted any detail to make
it as near perfect as possible. As she tore across the lawn which led to
the field her sharp eyes discovered Athol upon one of the tennis courts
and closer at hand a lot of other boys sprinting, gracefully or
otherwise, around the cinder path, taking hurdles placed about a hundred
feet apart.

Now, if there was one thing in this world upon which Apache and his young
mistress agreed more entirely than another, it was the pure delight of
skimming over a fence. A five-footer was a mere trifle. The three-foot
hurdles upon the cinder path a big joke. The tennis nets? Pouf!

If Beverly really was tugging upon Apache's bridle he was not permitting
anything so trivial as a girl's strength to bother him, and her knees
told him quite a different story as he swept upon the cinder path, took
two hurdles like a deer and was off over the tennis courts and over a net
before the astonished players could draw a full breath.

Then they woke up!

"It's a runaway!" cried Mr. Cushman, who had charge of the football
coaching, to be echoed by the tall quarter back in football togs, as both
broke away in pursuit, the whole field quickly taking the alarm also. But
that te