The Press., 1908-01-29
copartQhted, l9O7. Dv M. M. CMmmtaa0h0n

dale mansion could be seen a sweep of country touched by varying colors-the russet and crimson of oak and maple, the green of undulating 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 airy' cried Grattan taking a long whiff.
 ..And what a day for hunt!" echoed Rex Tellingford, looking past Richards to where Emily Lauderdale was chat tering to group of men in red coats, checking in her horse as the hounds struggled to be off, straining at their leashes. With every one in such good fettle it ought to be q great old race!' she laughed, tucking a strand of blue black hair beneath her riding hat.
 The eyes of Richards and TellingfOrd met with an understanding gleam. Each was cognizant of the others thoughts that whoever brought back the brush that day would win prize of far greater value. Both men knew that their future happiness depended largely on the mornings run, for Elm iIy was a horsewoman from the tip of her riding boot to the ends of her firm gauntleted fingers. She set immeaS- urable store by cross country rides, daring leaps and hairbreadth escapes. To say a man could not keep his sad dle was equal to Emily's mind with saying he could not keep his head. yRps%v1 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 I'm sure l could never explain. It's bred in my bone, that's all. If l had lived in the olden days l should have had tournament-rushing of horses, clashing of spears, splintering of ar nor! That's what I call a 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 imitation was written on Tellingford's. She gave little nod of satisfaction They were well matched, these two.
 The other members of the Lauder dale house party were not unaware of the drama that was being played be- Fibre their eyes, and it added to the Zest of the morning as the signal was giv en, the dogs unleashed and the caval- cade swept gayly down the hill. Look at that girl!' 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 mare's feet scarcely touched the earth. She took fences and furrows like a winged creature. Tellingford was not so fortunate. At the brink of stream he was forced to pause and fasten his saddle glrth Partly from excitement and partly from annoyance he fumbled with it longer than he had intended. and when he raised his head the others were al ready far afield, Emily Lauderdale and 1RoKn R7ey fVN $hn "a had scented their quarry and were in full cry.
 TellingfOrd considered. There was a crosscut that he had tried once before 1t lay through ditches and brambles and was intersected by five bar fences. Still anything at pinch, and he would back Fleetfoot against every mare in the county. He congratulated himself on this decision some moments later as Fleetfoot went forward at a pace that justified her name. Her course now. lay across wide meadows filled with lush grass and starred here and there by purple asters and skirted by low stone walls, in whose crumbling loose stones squirrels skipped and cbattered.
 Bravo. old girlv' cried Tellingford. his hand on Fleetfoot's glossy neck. gently urging her forward At that moment there reached him sharply and picrcingIv the hitter cry of child.
 Tellingford drew rein. By the wall. circling a ditch that Fleetfoot was about to take. lay small. chubby fig are. 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 Fleetfoot on again when the inertness of the little heap by the wall smote home to him. He checked his horse and dismounted. An instant later he stood with the helpless burden in his arms. The child's yellow head rested against his shoulder. One small arm hung limp across his own. With an understanding almost human. Fleet foot stood by the wall like bronze statue while Tellingford mounted and then went slowly back across the meadows toward the road. The child. recovering from his stupor. began to sob. TeIlingford soothed him with tender awkwarlness and was guiding FleetfOOt to the first farmhouse by the roadside when woman ran OOwn rne path leading to the door, untying her checKed apron as she went Her back was toward the approaching trio.
 Bobby" she cried, 'Bobbyy'
 The boy stirred in Teilingford's arms.
 'I think have found your boy. mad am," called Tellingford gently and in three seconds more was speeding for the village physician. The sounds of the hunt had long since died in the dis tance.
 It was afternoon when Tellingford reached the I4auderdales. From the dining room came sounds of talking and laughter. Tn the hall he met Elm