"And you missed it all--the charades and the chance of taking the prize--and came all the way back by yourself just to post a letter, when you didn't know the way!" he exclaimed again as they drew in sight of the old mill.
"Well, I call that pretty plucky for a girl." "I didn't want to," confessed Betty, "but there wasn't anything else to do.

It was a sacred promise, you know, and I had to keep it--to the utmost." They jogged along in silence side by side, a moment longer.

Then as the bonfire at the old mill flared into sight, Keith looked down at the tired little figure on the pony beside him.
"Betty," he said, with a gleam of admiration in his eyes, "you're a _brick_!".