took out his scissors again, and put them back after a snip, and then looked round at his four companions in turn.
“See here,” he said, thrusting two of his fingers into his mouth as he turned sharply away and started off, going swiftly over the ground and leaping almost like an antelope over every bush that came in his way, while he gave vent to a shrill whistle, which he modulated from time to time.
At the first note the ponies raised their heads from where they were cropping the sedge, and at the second, one of the sturdy little fellows uttered a shrill neigh, while at the third note, which turned into a trill, the little animals dashed off at a canter, scattering the sandy earth behind them as they tore after the utterer of the cheery sounds.
Chapter Eleven.
Making a Foreloper.
Dean’s jaw fell, and he stood staring after the strange visitor with so vacant an expression of countenance that in spite of his annoyance Mark burst into a hearty laugh.
“What are you grinning at?” cried Dean angrily.
“Your phiz. Why, whatever does that fellow call himself?”