“Tish,” she said brokenly, “does he recall anything to you?”

“Only my age,” said Tish rather wearily, “and that I’m an elderly spinster teaching children to defy their parents and committing larceny to help them.”

“To me,” said Aggie softly, “he is young love going out to seek his mate.  Oh, Tish, do you remember how Mr. Wiggins used to ride by taking his work horses to be shod!”

* * * * *

We went home the following day, which was the time the spring-wagon man was to meet us.  We started very early and were properly clothed and hatted when we saw him down the road.

The spring-wagon person came on without hurry and surveyed us as he came.

“Well, ladies,” he said, stopping before us, “I see you pulled it off all right.”

“We’ve had a very nice time, thank you,” said Tish, drawing on her gloves.  “It’s been rather lonely, of course.”

The spring-wagon person did not speak again until he had reached the open road.  Then he turned round.

“The horse business was pretty good,” he said.  “You ought to hev seen them folks when he rode out of the wood.  Flabbergasted ain’t the word.  They was ding-busted.”

Tish whispered to us to show moderate interest and to say as little as possible, except to protest our ignorance.  And we got the story at last like this:—­

It seems the newspapers had been full of the attempt Percy was to make, and so on the day before quite a crowd had gathered to see him come out of the wood.

“Ten of these here automobiles,” said the spring-wagon person, “and a hay-wagon full of newspaper fellows from the city with cameras, and about half the village back home walked out or druv and brought their lunches—­sort of a picnic.  I kep’ my eye on the girl and on a Mr. Willoughby.

“The story is that Willoughby who was the father’s choice—­Willoughby was pale and twitching and kep’ moving about all the time.  But the girl, she just kep’ her eyes on the trail and waited.  Noon was the time set, or as near it as possible.

“The father talked to the newspaper men mostly.  ’I don’t think he’ll do it, boys!’ he said.  ’He’s as soft as milk and he’s surprised me by sticking it out as long as he has.  But mark my words, boys,’ he said, ’he’s been living on berries and things he could pick up off the ground, and if his physical condition’s bad he loses all bets!”

It seems that, just as he said it, somebody pulled out a watch and announced “noon.”  And on the instant Percy was seen riding down the trail and whistling.  At first they did not know it was he, as they had expected him to arrive on foot, staggering with fatigue probably.  He rode out into the sunlight, still whistling, and threw an unconcerned glance over the crowd.

He looked at the trees, and located north by the moss on the trunks, the S.-W.P. said, and unslinging his Indian clock he held it in front of him, pointing north and south.  It showed exactly noon.  It was then, and not until then, that Percy addressed the astonished crowd.