rently the man did not hear, or else did not fancy the idea
suggested to him, for he began to run down the long corridor as fast as
he could go.

So it came to pass that the school, waiting peacefully for its pudding,
heard a sound of hasty feet scurrying down the stairs. Then, all in a
rush, came past the door the flying figure of a man, with Peggy Montfort
in hot pursuit.

"Stop thief!" Peggy shouted it once, and then prudently saved her
breath. The man fumbled for an instant at the front door, gave it up,
darted into Miss Russell's study. Crash went a window; he was out, with
Peggy at his heels, and away across the lawn.

"Stop thief!" the cry rang through the school; and, lo! in the twinkling
of an eye there was no school there. The long dining-room was emptied as
if by magic; the front door flew open, and out streamed the seventy
maidens, all crying "Stop thief!" all running their very best to come up
with the flying pair.

There were some good runners at Pentland School; but after the first few
minutes of running together, jostling and pushing, two girls drew
rapidly away from the rest, and soon left them far behind. Gertrude
Merryweather and Grace Wolfe had long been friendly rivals in what they
called the royal sport of running. Perhaps neither of them was sorry of
this opportunity for a "good spurt." Certainly it was a pretty sight,
the two tall, graceful creatures, lithe and long-limbed as young
greyhounds, speeding over the ground, their arms held close at their
sides, their eyes flashing, youth and strength seeming to radiate from
them as they ran. Now one drew ahead a little, now the other; but for
the most part they kept side by side, for both were running their best,
not only for the joy and honour of the thing, but because it was
necessary to arrive, to help Peggy and catch the thief.

The thief was evidently not a trained athlete, but he was doing his
best. He had cut himself a good deal in smashing the window, and had
thrown away part of his booty, hoping that his relentless pursuer might
be content, and might stop to pick up the brooches and belt-buckles that
lay at her feet; but Peggy never looked at them, and held on straight
after him, gaining, undoubtedly gaining. The man doubled back across the
lawn, hoping to reach the gate and safety; but Peggy headed him off as
quietly and coolly as if he were an unruly steer in the home stock-yard.
Again he doubled, and again the girl was running in a di