"Well, you know, Cottingham, it was _I_ cured Nancy when she took
to following _me_ about." She turned to Larry. "Luckily, I broke
my wrist, and by the time I was able to ride again she had given me up
and taken to hunting."

"That's what you says, Miss," said Cottingham; "but I reckon what her
wanted was what her got from _me_--a good 'idin'!"

Having made his point, Cottingham, a true artist, departed at the
little toddling run that in kennels indicates devotion to duty,
combined with a slippery floor.

"I had forgotten about your breaking your wrist--I remember about my
own, right enough!" said Larry. "What rotten luck!"

"Oh, it's dead sound now," said Christian. "Look!" She stood up, and
held out both her slender hands to him across the intervening hounds'
backs. "I bet you don't know which is which!"

Larry took a hand in each of his, and flexed the wrists. "The left,
wasn't it?" he said, without releasing them. "Not that I see any
difference, only I remember now that I heard you had smashed the same
one that I did."

"It did hurt--horribly! I expect you know. It hurts still a little,
sometimes." She looked at him for sympathy. She was nearly eighteen
now, and had caught him up in height, so that her brown eyes looked
straight into his blue ones.

"Poor little paw!" said Larry patronizingly; he was going to be