Hoof Beats 



laughed, a big boyish laugh and sent the brown 

 mare along. 



They were leading the rest of the field with 

 only the Master ahead. Striving could see him 

 look back every now and then and shout. Behind 

 him he heard the pounding of the gray's hoofs. 

 Once he glanced back and waved his hand, but 

 the girl did not reply. A few fields away he saw 

 a house with below it a row of trees and recognized 

 the lane. He marked the place where the new 

 panel should be and soon saw it shining on the 

 other side. They were going a rattling pace, for 

 the ground was damp and the hounds had never 

 lost scent. The lane lay at the foot of a hill, and 

 Striving rode at it barely checking at all. The 

 mare jumped in clean and he called to her when 

 she jumped out over the stiff new rail. As he 

 landed safely, a gray nose forged at his knee. He 

 drew rein, put out a hand and gripped two smaller 

 ones in his. 



"You mustn't,'* he said. "It's all right for me. 

 It doesn't make any difference, you know, about 

 me, but the pace is too hot for a woman to ride 

 like that." 



The face was a little pinched and the color 

 gone. It was the hardest day for years and 

 the hounds had never checked at all. 



"I'll follow you. I said I would on the train," 

 74 



