n lay behind them, and they stepped once
more on to the breezy heath, they shook off the nightmare that weighed
on their spirits and were themselves again.

"Precious glad it's over," said Richardson. "Beast, that arithmetic
paper was."

"I liked it better than the English," said Coote. "I say, is 'for' a
preposition or an adverb? I couldn't remember."

"Oh, look here! shut up riddles now," said Richardson, "we've had enough
of them. Let's talk about our three and not your 'for,' you Coote you."

Whereupon Richardson started to run, a proceeding which at once
convinced his companions that his last observation had been intended as
a joke. As in duty bound they gave chase, but the fleet-footed Dick was
too many for them; and when at last they came up with him he was
strongly intrenched on the box-seat of the empty waggonette at
Markridge, with Tom's whip in his hand, beyond all attack.

"I say," said he, after his pursuers had taken breath and granted an
amnesty, "it would be great fun to drive home by ourselves. Tom's not
here. I asked them. He's gone to see his aunt, or somebody, and left
word he'd be back at three o'clock. Like his cheek. I vote we don't
wait for him."

"All serene," said the others, "but we shall want the horse, shan't we?"

"Perhaps we shall," said Dick, with a grin, "unless you'd like to pull
the trap. The horse is in the stable, and we can tip the fellow to put
him in for us."

The "fellow" was quite amenable to this sort of persuasion, and
grinningly complied with the whim of the young gentlemen; secretly
enjoying the prospect of Tom's dismay.

"'Taint no concern of mine," said he, philosophically. "If you tells me
to do it, I does it."

"And if we tells you to open your mouth and shut your eyes, and you'll
find sixpence in your hand,--you'll find it there," said Dick.

"Of course you knows how to drive," said the stableman.

"Rather! Do you think we're babies? Here, shy us the reins. Come
along, you fellows, there's room for all three on the box. Now then,
Joe, give her her head. Come up, you beast! Swish! See if we don't
make her step out. Let her go!"

With some misgivings, Joe obeyed, and next moment the waggonette swayed
majestically out of the yard very much like a small steam-tug going out
of harbour in half a cap of wind.

"Rum, the way she pitches," said Dick presently; "she didn't do it when
we came."

"Looks to me as if the horse wasn't quite sober