“Now Beverly be careful, dear. Apache has a lively tickle in his toes this crisp morning, and besides the roads are terribly muddy and slippery from last night’s shower.”
“I’ll be careful mumsey dear,” answered the girl, as she ran down the steps to spring upon her mount.
“Careful and no racing with the boys, remember,” Mrs. Ashby called after her.
Perhaps Beverly did not hear the concluding admonition. At any rate we’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, for at that moment Apache gave testimony of the tickle in his toes by springing straight up into the air in as good an imitation of a “buck” as any “thoroughly gentled” little broncho could give in the polite society of his aristocratic Virginia cousins. Mrs. Ashby gave a startled exclamation, but Beverly, secure in her seat, waved a merry good-by and was off after the boys who were calling to her to “hurry up.”
Of course they had not heard one word of the foregoing conversation. Had they done so it is safe to say that they would never had proposed the two-mile race to the post office nor tormented Beverly for being “no sort of a sport,” and “scared to back her painted plug against their thoroughbreds.” They were honorable lads and would have felt honor-bound to respect Mrs. Ashby’s wishes. But not having heard, they gave Beverly “all that was coming to her for riding a calico nag,” though said “nag” was certainly a little beauty.
Nearly a quarter of the distance to Four Corners had been ridden when Beverly’s temper, never too elastic, snapped. Her riding crop descended with a thwack, first upon Royal’s round flank, then upon Snowdrift’s and finally upon Apache’s side as she cried:
“You-all hush up and ride. I’ll beat you to Four Corners or die in the attempt!”
The sudden onslaught brought the result to be expected. The two thoroughbreds plunged forward with snorts of indignant protest, answered by Apache’s very plebian squeal of rage as he shook his bony little head and struck into a gait such as Beverly had never dreamed a horse could strike. It was like a tornado let loose, and, expert little horsewoman that she was, she found ample occupation for all her wits and equestrian skill, though she managed to jerk out as she whirled past her companions:
“Two pounds of Huyler’s candy if I do beat those giraffes of yours.”
Hence the commotion at Four Corners a few moments later, the whirlwind arrived and the conversation recorded in the first chapter.