Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1907-09-25
lho. +. 90. i:
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lgl77Y6SS By Constance
Ii ulgluUUo Darcy
Mackay.
copyrighted, ipo-, ~ N. NJ cunndngham.

which WIS CfeSted bs tue uiu i-aStAE-
dale mansion could be seen sweep Of
country touched by varying colors-the
russell and crimson Of oak and maple,
the green of unduiating fields and hills
broken here and there by the gray Of
stone walls, the clear flashes of brooks
or stretches of open road.
Cad What arr' cried Grattan
Richards. tossing back his head aud
taking long Whit.
And what a day for a huntr' echoed
Rex Teilingfor,i. looking past Richards
to where Emily Lauderlaie was chat
tering to Il group of iuen in red coats,
checking IN her horse as the hoanas
struggled to be of. straining mt their
leashes. With every one Ia such good
feitle it ought to be a great old race!
she laughed, TICKING strand of blue
black hair beneath her riding hat.
The eyes of Richards and Teilingford
met with an understanding CLEAN.
Each was cognizant of the other s
thoughts that whoever brought back
the brush that day would win a prize
of far greater value. Both men knew
that their future happiness depended
largely on the mornings run, for En-
fly was a horSewoiuan from the tip OF
her riding boot to the ends of her Erla
gauntleted fingers. She set immeas-
urable store by cross country rides,
daring leaps and hairbreadth escape.
To say man could not keep his sad
die was equal to Emily's mind with
saying he could not keep his head.
Though l think there are virtues
equally as great as cross country rid
ing" smiled gentle Elizabeth Lauder
dale. whose love of outdoor excitement
was neither so deep rooted nor Of such
long Inheritance as Emily's.
Emily shook her head.
Dear Aunt Elsie" she answered,
you don't in the least understand. and
Tn sure l could never explain. It's
bred in my bone, that's all. II had
lfved in the olden days I should have
had tournament-rushing Of horses,
clashing Of spears, splintering OF ar
NOR! That's what l call wooing.
No mere ambling up to demand your
heart and hand, And. as find it hard
to decide between Grattan Richards
and Rex Tellingford. why, fair field
and fair play, and let the best man
win"
Something Of this headstrong resolu-
ton stirred In the girl as she turned
suddenly in her saddle and glanced at
the two men. Assured triumph glowed
on the face of Richards. Stern deter
mination was written ON Tellingfords.
She gave a little nod OF satisfaction.
They We're well matched, these two.
The other members OF the Lauder
dale house party were not unaware Of
the drama that was being played be-
fore their eyes. and 1t added to the zest
of the morning as the signal was Civ
en-, the dogs unleashed and the caval-
cade swept gayiy down the hill.
Look at that girlr' gasped Mrs.
Royce Thompson. a novice who pound
ed In her saddle. She's actually
But the rest OF the words were lost.
for Emily was already In the distance,
galloping at breakneck speed, while at
her heels followed Richards and Tel
lingford. The rest of the hunt stream
ed after them. Luck seemed to favor
Richards. His mares feet scarcely
touched the EARTH She took fences
and burrows like a winged creature
TeIlingford was not so fortunate. Al
the brink Of stream he was forced
to pause and fasten his saddle girth
Partly from excitement and partly
from annoyance he fumbled with II
longer than he had intended, and when
he raised his head the others were al
ready far afield, Emily Lauderdale and
Richards still in the lead. The hounds
had scented their quarry and were in
full cry.
Tellingford considered. There was a
crosscut that he had tried once before
It lay through bitches and brambles
and was intersected by FIVE bar fences
Still anything at pinch, and he would
back Fleetfoot against every mare II
the county. He congratulated himself
on this decision some moments latei
as Fleetfoot went forward at a pace
that justified her name. Her course
now lay across wide meadows filled
Will lush SIdSS uiitl SttIECU utkc An1
there by purple asters and skirted by
low stone walls. in whose crumblinc
chinks vines twisted and across whose
loose stones squirrels skipped and
chartered.
bravo. old girlr' cried TeIlingford
his hand on Fleetfoot's glossy neck,
gently urging her forward. At that
moment there reached him sharply and
piercingly the bitter cry of child.
Tellingford drew rein BY the wall,
oircling ditch that Fleetfoot was
about to take. lay small. chubby fig
ure, one hand full Of flowers.
''Pricked himself with brambles,"
thought Tellingford. Aloud he said:
~Cheer up. sonny! Men never cry
for a scratch" He was for urging
Wleetfoot on again when the inertness
" the little heap by the wall smote
neme to him He checked his horse
and dismounted. An instant later he