ight besides birds gossiping in the leafy branches and the
squirrel scolding to himself, was a sober-eyed serious mule peacefully
grazing near the bottom of the hill.

Prudence laughed gleefully, like a child. She never laughed again in
exactly that way. This was the last appearance of the old irresponsible
Prudence. The curtain was just ready to drop.

"Here goes!" she cried, and leaping nimbly into the saddle, she pedaled
swiftly a few times, and then lifted her feet to the coveted position.
The pedals flew around beneath her, just as she had anticipated, and the
wind whistled about her in a most exhilarating way.

But as she neared the bottom, a disastrous and totally unexpected thing
happened. The placid mule, which had been righteously grazing beside the
fence, suddenly stalked into the middle of the road. Prudence screamed,
jerked the handle-bar to the right, then to the left, and then, with a
sickening thud, she landed head first upon some part of the mule's
anatomy. She did not linger there, however. She bounced on down to the
ground, with a little cry of pain. The bicycle crashed beside her, and
the mule, slightly startled, looked around at her with ears raised in
silent questioning. Then he ambled slowly across the road, and
deliberately continued his grazing.

Prudence tried to raise herself, but she felt sharp pain. She heard some
one leaping over the fence near her, and wondered, without moving her
head, if it could be a tramp bent on highway robbery. The next instant,
a man was leaning over her. "It's not a tramp," she thought, before he
had time to speak.

"Are you hurt?" he cried. "You poor child!"

Prudence smiled pluckily. "My ankle is hurt a little, but I am not a
child."

The young man, in great relief, laughed aloud, and Prudence joined him
rather faintly.

"I'm afraid I can not walk," she said. "I believe I've broken my ankle,
maybe my whole leg, for all I know. It--hurts--pretty badly!"

"Lie down like this," he said, helping her to a more comfortable
position, "do not move. May I examine your foot?"

She shook her head, but he removed the shoe regardless of her head-shake.
"I believe it is sprained. I am sure the bone is not broken. But how in
the world will you get home? How far is it to Mount Mark? Is that where
you live?"

"Yes," considering, "yes, I live there, and it must be four miles,
anyhow. What shall I do?"

In answer, he pulled off his coat, and arr