Lemuel the youngest, who had outgrown his strength, had made a
deplorable "put," and the rest jeered at him, to relieve their feelings.
The boy fired up. "Oh, have your laugh!" he blazed, with angry tears in
his eyes. "But when it comes to running, there's not one of you but
knows I can put circles round him."

"Take you on, this moment," answered up young Increase. "Say, boys,
we'll all take him on."

Jonathan had no mind for any such "foolishness." He had won, and was
content; and running didn't become the dignity of a grown man.
"We didn't run at Louisbourg, I guess." George echoed him. George could
out-tire even Jonathan at wood-cutting, but had no length of leg.

But Ruth having compassion on the boy's hurt feelings, persuaded them.
They could refuse no straight request of hers. She pointed to an
outlying elm that marked the boundary of the second pasture field beyond
the steading. This should be the turning-post, and would give them a
course well over half a mile, with a water-jump to be crossed twice.
She ranged them in line, and dropped her handkerchief for signal.

They were off. She stood with the sun at her back and watched the race.
George, of the short legs, broad shoulders, and bullet head, was a
sprinter (as we call it nowadays) and shot at once to the front, with
Homer not far behind, and Increase disputing the third place with
Lemuel. Jonathan and William made scarcely a show of competing.
The eldest lad, indeed, coming to the brook, did not attempt to jump,
but floundered heavily through it, scrambled up the farther bank, and
lumbered on in hopeless pursuit. It was here that Lemuel's long easy
stride asserted itself, and taking first place he reached the tree with
several yards' lead.

"He will win at his ease now," said Ruth to herself; and just at that
moment her ears caught the sound of a horse's footfall. She turned; but
the sun shone full in her eyes, and not for a second or two did she
recognise her visitor, Mr. Silk.

He was on horseback, and, stooping from his saddle, was endeavouring
just now--but very unhandily--to unhasp the gate with the crook of his
riding-whip. Ruth did not offer to go to his help.

He managed it at last, thrust the horse through by vigorous use of his
knees, and was riding straight up to the house. But just then he caught
sight of her, changed his course, and came towards her at a walk.

"Ah, good-morning!" he called.

"Good-morning."

He dismoun