“There and back?” asked Tom.
“There and back, of course,” replied Zephyrus.
“Before we start,” said Tom, “let it be clearly understood whoever wins is to sit beside Miss Laura.”
“Bon!” cried Zephyrus. “I shall be certain to occupy that envied place!”
“Not so certain,” rejoined Tom, with a knowing wink.
Ready in a minute, and in another minute off, at a signal from Laura, who had great difficulty in holding in the ponies when the start was made.
There seemed very little doubt that the Frenchman would win, for he was extremely agile, and ran far more lightly and fleetly than our fat friend Tom.
But it soon appeared that young Tankard intended some ruse, for he was still more than a hundred yards from the oak, and sixty or seventy behind Zephyrus, when he suddenly turned round, and ran back as fast as he could.
Zephyrus did not at first see what his opponent was about, but the moment he did, he likewise turned, and set off after young Tankard at such a pace that even then it seemed probable he would overtake him.
But by dint of extraordinary exertion, Tom managed to reach the pony-carriage in time to spring into the coveted seat beside Laura, just as the Frenchman came up.