horse than they had in the issue of the contest, and both started at the
top of their speed in pursuit. But they might as well have chased a flash
of lightning, or a locomotive going at the rate of fifty miles an hour.

Tom Somers came down from the bank which he had ascended to secure a good
position. He had done rather more than he intended to do; but on the whole
he did not much regret it. He watched the course of the spirited animal,
as he dashed madly on to destruction. The career of the horse was short;
for in the act of turning a corner, half a mile from the spot where Tom
stood, he upset the chaise, and was himself thrown down, and, being
entangled in the harness, was unable to rise before a stout man had him by
the head.

"I wish that chaise had been the southern confederacy," said Tom to
himself, philosophically, when he saw the catastrophe in the distance.
"Well, it served you right, old Secesh; and I'll bet there ain't many
folks in Pinchbrook Harbor that will be willing to comfort the mourners."

With this consoling assurance, Tom continued on his way home. At dinner,
he gave the family a faithful account of the transaction.

"You didn't do right, Thomas," said his mother.

"He hit me first."

"You called him a traitor."

"He is a traitor, and so is his father."

"I declare, the boys are as full of fight as an egg is of meat," added