“There she goes!” exclaimed Grace, irrelevantly. “Just see how she rides!”
The girls turned quickly from their position of facing the lake to that of facing the road that ran parallel, but in spite of their promptness they almost missed seeing a girl dash by on horseback; in fact the blue roan pony she rode looked like some wild black animal of the forest, as it plunged into the grove of thick trees that skirted the lake at this curve; and the rider appeared nothing more than a brown spot on the roan’s back as he galloped away.
“I wonder who she can be?” queried Cleo.
“Jealous?” teased Grace, for Cleo was fond of horses and their sports.
“No, indeed,” replied the other. “But that girl can ride. I saw her go over the hills this afternoon and her horse stumbled in a hole, but she just hugged him for it. Bare-back, too.”
“I think we may all be jealous of her,” added Louise. “The old boatman, Pete, told me to-day she is regarded as the original Scout around here.”
“Then she better be jealous of us,” commented Corene, “for we are going to be the real Scouts now. What’s her name?”
“Peg,” replied Julia. “I just heard someone say ‘there goes Peg.’”
“Nice little name,” commented Cleo, “but when Margaret comes she may also claim it. I wonder why this Peg wears that outfit? She looks like a cow-boy girl.”
“I haven’t seen her close by; she is always going like the wind when I happen to get a glimpse of her,” followed Julia. “But you may be sure she is someone very interesting. Her mere make-up proclaims that.”