"Very lucky! But you don't mean to tell me that while you're pounding along at full speed, you've never upset anything in your way ?--never knocked down an old man or woman,--never run over a dog,--or a child ?" "Oh, well, if you mean that kind of thing!" murmured Wrotham, puffing placidly at his cigar--"Of course! That's quite common! We're always running over something or other, aren't we, Brookie ?" "Always!" declared that gentleman pleasantly.

"Really it's half the fun!" "Positively it is, don't-cher-know!" and his lordship played again with his enamelled pig--"But it's not our fault.

If things will get into our way, we can't wait till they get out.

We're bound to ride over them.

Do you remember that old hen, Brookie ?" Brookfield spluttered into a laugh, and nodded in the affirmative.
"There it was skipping over the road in front of us in as great a hurry as ever hen was," went on Wrotham.