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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"Going Some"

You're going to run off some
blubber to-day."
"But I have _to go riding_!"
"Not a chance!"
"I tell you I'll run when I come back," maintained the youth,
almost tearfully beseeching. "They're waiting for me."
"Let 'em gallop--you can run alongside."
"With all these sweaters? I'd have a sunstroke."
"It's the best thing for you. I never thought of that."
As Glass forced his protege toward the house, the other young
people appeared clad for their excursion; their horses were
tethered to the porch. And it was an ideal day for a ride--warm,
bright, and inviting. Over to the northward the hills,
mysteriously purple, invited exploration; to the south and east
the golden prairie undulated gently into a hazy realm of infinite
possibilities; the animals themselves turned friendly eyes upon
their riders, champing and whinnying as if eager to bear them out
into the distances.
"We are ready!" called Jean gayly.
"What in the world--" Helen paused at sight of the swathed
figure. "Are you cold, Mr. Speed?"
"Climb on your horses and get a start," panted the burly trainer;
"he's goin' to race you ten miles.


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