"
"I'm going to do nothing of the sort. I'm going to--"
But Glass jerked him violently, crying:
"And no talkin' to gals, neither. You're trainin'. Now, get a
move!"
Speed halted stubbornly.
"Hit her up, Wally! G'wan, now--faster! No loafing, Bo, or I'll
wallop you!" Nor did he cease until they both paused from
exhaustion. Even then he would not allow his charge to do more
than regain his breath before urging him onward.
"See here," Wally stormed at last, "what's the use? I can't--"
"What's the use? That's the use!" Glass pointed to the north,
where a lone horseman was watching them from a knoll. "D'you know
who that is?"
The rider was small and stoop-shouldered.
"Willie!"
"That's who."
"He's following us!"
With knees trembling beneath him Speed jogged feebly on down the
road, Glass puffing at his heels.
When, after covering five miles, they finally returned to the
Flying Heart, it was with difficulty that they could drag one
foot after another. Wally Speed was drenched with perspiration,
and Glass resembled nothing so much as a steaming pudding;
rivulets of sweat ran down his neck, his face was purple, his
lips swollen.
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