That was enough for Molly Breckenridge. Queenie, the broken-tailed sorrel which she rode, was as swift as she was gentle and needed no goad of heel or whip to spur her forward. A pat of the smooth neck, a word in the sensitive ear—“Fetch him out, Queen!”—and the race was on.
Anton glanced behind and the spirit of mischief flamed in him. They rode toward the forest where a few wood-roads entered, each of which he knew to its finish, not one of which knew Molly. Only this much she did know that Anton lived at the farm, where she lived. Anton rode the farmer’s horse as she did. Anton was never absent from meals and it was dinner-time. Therefore, if she thought at all about it or considered further than the delight of a real race, she knew that back to the farm would Anton go and she could follow.
He dashed aside from the wheel-rutted track. She stumbled over the ridges, kept him in sight, and followed him. He doubled and twisted, so did she. He dashed forward in a long straight line, curved, circled, and came back to the wood-road some distance ahead. She did not curve but cut his circle by a short line and brought up at his side.
“Huh! ’Tis a good rider you are, Miss Molly, but you’d best go back now. I’m for the camp.”
“Never! You can’t be! They wouldn’t trust you, you’re so tricksy. Who’d want you there?”
He was instantly offended and showed it, drawing himself erect on the gray mare and tossing his head high while his narrow black eyes looked angrily at her. Then he drew from his blouse the packet Mrs. Hungerford had given him and haughtily explained:
“For that Judge. Now, am I trusted? No?”
It was very strange. Ever since she had been at the farm she had heard of Anton’s pranks and trickiness. Tasks he had been set to perform were always neglected except that one of keeping fuel supplied, and this work brought him, also, constantly under his mistress’s eye. Yet he allowed Molly to come so close she could recognize her aunt’s handwriting outside the packet, and especially that word “Important.”
Suddenly she resolved.
“Anton, if you ride to camp I ride with you.”