the saddle before he could offer to help, with the clean
spring of the child who mounted the pony for the Thirty-Mile Ride.
The day held mercilessly, though Georgie got down thrice to look for
imaginary stones in Rufus's foot. One cannot say even simple things in
broad light, and this that Georgie meditated was not simple. So he spoke
seldom, and Miriam was divided between relief and scorn. It annoyed her
that the great hulking thing should know she had written the words of
the song overnight; for though a maiden may sing her most secret
fancies aloud, she does not care to have them trampled over by the male
Philistine. They rode into the little red-brick street of Bassett, and
Georgie made untold fuss over the disposition of that duck. It must go
in just such a package, and be fastened to the saddle in just such a
manner, though eight o'clock had struck and they were miles from dinner.

"We must be quick!" said Miriam, bored and angry.

"There's no great hurry; but we can cut over Dowhead Down, and let 'em
out on the grass. That will save us half an hour."

The horses capered on the short, sweet-smelling turf, and the delaying
shadows gathered in the valley as they cantered over the great dun down
that overhangs Bassett and the Western coaching-road. Insensibly the
pace quickened without thought of mole-hills; Rufus, gentleman that he
was, waiting on Miriam's Dandy till they should have cleared the rise.
Then down the two-mile slope they raced together, the wind whistling in
their ears, to the steady throb of eight hoofs and the light click-click
of the shifting bits.

"Oh, that was glorious!" Miriam cried, reining in. "Dandy and I are old
friends, but I don't think we've ever gone better together."

"No; but you've gone quicker, once or twice."

"Really? When?"

Georgie moistened his lips. "Don't you remember the Thirty-Mile
Ride--with me--when 'They' were after us--on the beach-road, with the
sea to the left--going toward the lamp-post on the downs?"

The girl gasped. "What--what do you mean?" she said hysterically.

"The Thirty-Mile Ride, and--and all the rest of it."

"You mean--? I didn't sing anything about the Thirty-Mile Ride. I know I
didn't. I have never told a living soul.'"

"You told about Policeman Day, and the lamp at the top of the downs, and
the City of Sleep. It all joins on, you know--it's the same country--and
it was easy enough to see where you had been."

"Good God!--It joins on--of