"Oh! you must say 'doesn't'—not 'don't.'" She shook her great mass of hair and cried merrily, "I guess we are about even now, John Penhallow."
Then they laughed gaily, as the boy said, "I wasn't very—very courteous."
"Now that's pretty, John. Good gracious, Billy!" she cried, punching the broad back of the driver. "Are you asleep? You are all over the road."
"Oh! I was thinkin' how Pole, the butcher, sold the Squire a horse that's spavined—got it sent back—funny, wasn't it?"
"Look out," said Leila, "you will upset us."
John looked the uneasiness he felt, as he said, "Do you think it is safe?"
"No, I don't. Drive on, Billy, but do be careful."
They came to the little village of Westways. At intervals Billy communicated bits of village gossip. "Susan McKnight, she's going to marry Finney—"
"Bother Susan," cried Leila. "Be careful."
John alarmed held on to his seat as the sleigh rocked about, while Billy whipped up the mare.