"'FOUND THEM HIDIN' DOWN THE FORE-HOLD, SIR.'" p. 26.
SUNSHINE AND SNOW.
BY
HAROLD BINDLOSS.
Author of "In the Niger Country," "The Concession Hunters,"
"Ainslie's Ju-ju" etc.
WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS.
TORONTO:
THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY,
LIMITED.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
II.—IN COLLISION
III.—THE STOLEN CATTLE
SUNSHINE AND SNOW.
CHAPTER I.
THE PAPER-CHASE.
It was a December day, the great day of all theyear to Charley Gordon and the boys ofFirdene School, which stands in a deep, greenvalley of the North Country, for the last term'swork was done. That very morning the prizeshad been given away, and on the following onethey would depart homewards for their Christmasholiday. Charley had come out first in manysubjects, besides winning a special certificate forall-round excellence, and had read his prize essayto a gathering of all his comrades and some oftheir parents in the great stone hall which hadonce formed part of an ancient abbey. Theprize distribution at Firdene was generally wellattended.
Even now, as he ran first in the paper-chase,he could remember the mass of faces turnedtowards him, and the clapping of hands, thoughit hurt him to see his elder brother Arthur, whostood among the guests, watching him, he thought,sadly. Arthur was an officer of artillery, as he toohoped to be, and since their father and motherdied had been his only guardian, while Charleywas never tired of singing his praises to lessfortunate companions who had not an armyofficer for a brother. Still—when everybodycalled, 'Bravo!' and he blushed and feltuncomfortable when one old lady said, "What apretty boy!"—Arthur only said very quietly,"You have done well, Charley."
In the afternoon there was always a paper-chase,with prizes for the two hares if not caught,or the first two hounds that overtook them, andall the athletes of Firdene practised for it. Charleyran well, and now with the empty bag which hadheld the torn paper fluttering behind his shouldershe did his best, a comrade panting at his heels, andseveral of the fastest hounds somewhere two orthree fields behind, while not far ahead a highridge of furzy down shut off the dip into Firdenevalley. Although it was winter, a gentlesouth-west wind blew up channel soft to the breath,while, as the daylight faded a white mist rolled upfrom the valley, and the rush through the dampair brought the blood mantling under the runner'sskin. He was a clean-limbed, vigorous Englishboy, with muscles suppled and strengthened bymany a swim from the pebble beach and