"Miss Woodburn!" he said quietly. He held out a great gloved hand.
Boy looked resolutely between her horse's ears.
"Trot," she said.
A few straggling foot-passengers, an occasional trap, a man on a bicycle, and some children pushing a perambulator, showed them they were drawing near their goal.
About half a mile in front the road opened on to a green. There among trees they could see a gathering of men and horses.
"Good!" cried the young man. "They haven't moved off yet. Shall we slow down?"
"Best get on, I think," replied the girl.
A man in a slouch hat, carrying a gamp as untidy as himself, was walking before them down the middle of the road.
"Ass!" muttered the young man. "Why can't he keep to one side?"
Boy shot ahead, Silver took a pull. Banjo made a fuss, took offence, then went striding hugely by, and shied off, splashing through a puddle.