Evidently they had been late in getting started, and had endeavored to gain sufficient speed to "catch up" with the procession.
Max had been vexed that at first the balky little beast could not be induced to hasten, and for a long time he continued to walk at a fearfully slow pace, paying no heed to shouting, or a taste of the whip.
Then, when Max put down the whip, and let the reins lie loosely across the little creature's back, Neddy suddenly decided to go, and go he did, galloping along at a rate that set the light cart swaying from side to side, and threatening, at any moment, to throw Max and Gwen out.
"Stop him! Do stop him!" cried Gwen, "He's running away!"
"I cant!" screamed Max. "First he wouldn't go, and now he won't stop!"
The procession halted, and a big boy sprang forward, endeavoring to snatch at the bridle.
The intention was good, but the donkey, maddened that anyone should try to stop him, shied, and the boy and girl were hurled out upon the sand.
Max turned a complete somersault and came up on his feet, declaring himself unhurt, but Gwen took an entirely different view of the matter.
She was not hurt, but her temper was decidedly ruffled.
"Well, I declare!" she cried, "I do think everyone is horrid, but I think Max is just a little horrider than the rest!"