the invader on the sands below kept silence, nor
made any movement toward attack, the leader seemed to feel that his
prestige was safe enough; that prudence were now the better part. He
sounded a low call, and set off at a gallop along the ridge top. The
rank of mares pounded obediently at his heels.

"Oh, after them, Josie!" Florence cried.

In a moment, the car shot forward. The horn clamored again. The
fleeing horses looked back, then leaped to new speed before the
monster that threatened them with unknown terrors. As the car
increased its pace, the ponies strove the harder. Their strides
lengthened, quickened. The stunted marsh grass beat on the low
bellies. Despite their desperate striving, the runabout drew closer
and closer, reached abreast of them. The excitement of the chase was
in the sparkling eyes of the girls. The dog, scrambling up and falling
in its seat, yelped madly. Here, the beach broadened to a sharper
ascent of the ridge. Josephine shifted the wheel. The car swung in a
wide curve and drove straight toward the panic-stricken troop, as if
it would soar up to them. Fear took pride's place in the leader's
heart. He sounded a command. The flying drove veered, vanished from
the ridge top. The muffled thudding of hoofs came faintly for a minute
against the sea wind. Then, as the car came to a standstill, the girls
listened, but heard no sound.

"It was bully fun!" Josephine said. "I'm sorry it's over."

"After that run, they may be thirsty enough to dig for water,"
Florence suggested, with a laugh. "Let's climb up, and take a look
round from the ridge."

But a glance from this point of advantage made it clear that the
peculiarities of the ponies in drinking or fishing were not to be
explained to-day. They were visible still, to be sure, but a mile off,
and the rapidity with which the moving mass diminished to the eye was
proof that they were still in panic.

"We might as well get back to the yacht," was Josephine's rueful
comment. "There's not another single thing to see, now they're gone."
She ran her keen gaze over the dreary waste of the island with a
little shiver of distaste. Then her glance roved the undulant expanse
of sea. She uttered a sharp ejaculation of surprise.

"There is something, after all," she called out, excitedly. "See--over
there!"

Florence looked in the direction marked by the pointing finger.

"It's a canoe," she hazarded, as her eyes fell on the object that
bobbed ligh