"He's got 'em!" yelled the partisans of the old General, packed solidly around him and cackling with half crazy joy. "Now jes watch sum'thin' drop."
But a girl sitting on her horse and looking over the crowd saw it differently. A daring, knowing, triumphant smile lingered around her mouth. And not in heaven, nor in the star-lighted lake below, ever shone two stars rippling into little wavelets of glint and glory like those in the eyes of her.
The General, seeing her, shouted: "Yes, watch it drop! No saddle for you, young lady!"
Down went her keen, fun-loving eyes to those of the old soldier. "It's dropped already, General—see! I own that saddle now!"
Something had happened. The little filly felt the reins relax and a kindly chirrup come from her driver. In a twinkling, in the whir of a spinning wheel, she was up with the big fellow, half frightened at her own speed, half doubting that it was really she who did it, half sobbing with the keen thrill of it, like a great singer who for the first time hears her own voice filling a great hall.
"Princewood! Princewood!" shouted the crowd around their idol, the General, "Princewood's broke the record!"
The old General rose in happy anticipation: "Yes, boys, it looks like the record is busted by—"
Here his jaw dropped as if paralyzed; for his trained eye took in the situation and the word died in his mouth. What was that little bay thing that had so gamely collared his big horse? Who is that quiet-looking fellow in the soft hat handling the reins like a veteran and leading the march like Stonewall's Foot-Cavalry in the Valley? His grandson, Jack, was in a cart; this man sat in a sulky. And Jack was driving a little limp-waisted, hollow-flanked—
"Who the devil—" he began, when someone clinging to his middle finger looked up, great smiles chasing tears down her cheeks and so excited she could scarcely breathe.
"Why, it's Little Sister, Grandpa! Now isn't she just too sweet for anything?"