it that day to escape what she called her chum's "everlasting
fiddling."

Dorothy was as fond of her violin as Molly averse to her piano; and the
nearest to dispute which ever rose between them was on account of
Dolly's devotion to her music. She had even complained to Aunt Lucretia
that "a violin made her head ache." Whereupon the ambitious violinist
had begged permission of its owner to use an empty corncrib at the foot
of the "long orchard," as a music-room, and there "squeaked" as long and
as loud as she pleased. She was going there now, violin case under her
arm, to pass the half-hour before dinner and to watch the men come in
from the fields, at the ringing of the great bell which hung from a pole
beside the kitchen door. To her the country was full of every possible
delight, but poor Molly found it "too quiet and lonely for words." So
she spent more and more of her time on every pleasant day, riding up and
down the lanes or following Farmer Grimm to the fields.

Between those two a great affection had sprung up. He liked her
fearlessness in riding and laughed at her timidity when horned cattle
appeared anywhere near. He was proud of the way in which she could take
a fence and kept her with him all he could.

On this day, however, he could not so take her. His errands were too far
afield and too unsuited for her, and that was why she now rode alone,
rather disconsolately up and down, until she saw Anton come out of the
stable yard, mounted upon the gray mare and holding his head like a
prince.

"Anton! Anton! Oh! are you going riding? Take me with you! Please,
please, Anton!"

For answer he touched Bess with his heel and she flew out of the
enclosure like a bird.

That was enough for Molly Breckenridge. Queenie, the broken-tailed
sorrel which she rode, was as swift as she was gentle and needed no goad
of heel or whip to spur her forward. A pat of the smooth neck, a word in
the sensitive ear--"Fetch him out, Queen!"--and the race was on.

Anton glanced behind and the spirit of mischief flamed in him. They rode
toward the forest where a few wood-roads entered, each of which he knew
to its finish, not one of which knew Molly. Only this much she did know
that Anton lived at the farm, where she lived. Anton rode the farmer's
horse as she did. Anton was never absent from meals and it was
dinner-time. Therefore, if she thought at all about it or considered
further than the delight of a real race, she knew that b