Galloping Dick
cantered slowly up the highway to meet it. It came swinging down at a merry pace, and flashed out upon the open swamp into the brilliant moonlight; and just at that we put heels to our nags, and rode forward at a hand-gallop. The coach was as plain as if it had been midday, and I could count the heads of the four that sat on the box with the driver. But from the speed at which we came up, they could never have suspected our design. And the first hint of the matter, as well as the first words on the occasion, came from the coachman, who, seeing as we did not divide to let him run through, shouted a warning at us. But we took no notice. “Stand close,” says I under my breath, and they both held in tight till the flanks of our horses grazed and brushed against each other.
And then someone rose suddenly upon the box. “What the Devil!” he cried. “Where are you coming, you drunken fools?”
Now, I know the way of drivers, and have never met one who was not for saving his horses an’ he could; and sure enough, as I
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