"Lucifer hits the toboggan!" cried Ned.
"The magnificent dare-devils!" exclaimed Mary, thrilled by the sight. In a moment it was over and Andy closed in upon them at a smart trot, reining his horse on his heels but a length before them.
"A mighty fine slide!" applauded Ned.
"Margaret can't peep," teased Mary. "Her heart's in her mouth."
Margaret acknowledged the newcomer with a sedate bow. Her voice was severely accusing as she said:
"Why do you find it necessary to skid that horrible hill on poor Night?"
"Just dropping into good company, Margaret," was the bright reply. "Night likes it."
"Very well! You are welcome to—the skidding," was the demure impertinence.
She turned from him to glance over the lake. Had Andy caught her eyes he would have seen deep down in their dark depths a gleam of exquisite pleasure. Good riding, and daring at that, could not fail to delight Margaret, and of this the wily Andy was well aware. A moment later he was enjoying her gay sallies as they rode side by side.
The four riders advanced abreast with the girls in the centre, the sound of their voices mingling with the champing of bits and the restless tramping of prancing hoofs. Suddenly, to their right, a gully opened up, winding its way into the hills. Andy caught Ned's eye flashing him some significant message. Ned instantly realized his intention and seizing Bobs' bridle turned abruptly into the gully. In the meantime Andy had adroitly directed Margaret's attention to a big loon basking in the water near the shore. They were well past the gully before she discovered that two of the party were missing. She halted Flash and looked blankly at Andy. With remarkable address he simulated her expression. She searched his nonplussed features critically, passing their fluctuations through her mental sieve.