Milton didn't care to push the peace-making any further. However, he had curiosity enough to ask, "What upset things 'tween you 'n Ed?"
"Oh, nothing."
"You mean none o' my business?"
"I didn't say so."
"No, you didn't need to," he laughed, and she joined in.
"Yes, that's Cy Hurd. I know that laugh of his far's I c'n hear it," said Bettie as they jingled along. "I wonder who's with him?"
"We'll mighty soon see," said Milton, as he wound the lines around his hands and braced his feet, giving a low whistle, which seemed to run through the colt's blood like fire. His stride did not increase in rate, but its reach grew majestic as he seemed to lengthen and lower. His broad feet flung great disks of hard-packed snow over the dasher, and under the clash of his bells the noise of the other team grew plainer.
"Get out of the way," sang Milton, as he approached the other team. There was challenge and exultation in his tone.
"Hello! In a hurry?" shouted those in front, without increasing their own pace.