t! Who goes there? In the king's name, who art thou?"

Sally gave Hotspur a wild cut from the whip in her hand. The spirited
creature stopped short, then reared so high that only by flinging her
arms about his neck did the maid keep from being flung to the ground.

"Hotspur! Hotspur!" she cried in his ear, "go on, oh, go on!"

Aloud, she cried:

"Oh, wot Mars' Kendall, wot Mars' Hancocke do if we gets late!"

"Who are you?" cried another man, riding nearer; and Sally wailed again
about getting late.

"Stop your nonsense!" sung out another man, trying to get close enough
to the still prancing Hotspur to clutch at the frail bridle.

Maid Sally made no mistake that time.

Raising her arm, she gave the man's horse a cut across his face, which
set him jumping madly, putting the others into a panic also.

At the same moment, Sally cried in Hotspur's ear, "Go on, boy! Now, now,
Hotspur, sh! sh!" And she patted his neck quickly but gently and pressed
a foot against his side.

With one leap forward, Hotspur was off on a hot race that Sally could
not control. She lay along his back, rolling from side to side, as
Hotspur, his fierce blood now up, tore by bushes, trees, pounded over a
little bridge, dashed up one hill, down another, and only yielded to
Sally's soft calls as they came to a sleeping village and a clock struck
three.

"I really haven't been one mite afraid," said the plucky maiden.

In another hour she felt that she ought to be near Farmer Hinds's. And
she was glad to see a yoke of oxen lumbering along, a great covered
wagon behind them. Judging by his appearance, a colored man walked
beside them.

Furniture was piled in the wagon, and Sally easily guessed that a family
were about to move, and a servant had been sent on before daybreak with
some of the furniture.

"I say, Uncle," she called, pleasantly, "whar dat man Hinds have his
farm?"

"Whar you get dat hoss?" was the reply.

"Whar dat Hinds live?" cried Sally.

"You bettah get off'n dat hoss," said the provoking old man.

A little thin, piping voice, somewhere between the truck in the wagon,
suddenly arose:

"Just you keep right on, and purty soon you come to a hill, then a
meet'n'-house, then a piece of river paff, and the Hindses farmlands
lies right ahead in the woods."

Again it was a long stretch and a lonely way, but morning had dawned
when Sally and her brave steed reached a deep dell close to the Hinds
farmlands.

Here she tied