The barking turned to growls; horrible, crunching growls which brought his heart up into his throat as he broke into a run, forgetting his pain. He had not gained the top of the rise in the road, however, when the growls gave place to wild yelps and howls which rapidly diminished in the distance and presently Lou appeared holding carefully before her something round and white which gleamed in the starlight. "Good Heavens!" he exclaimed when she neared him. "What on earth have you been doing?" "Git on back 'round the other side of the mill!" ordered Lou. "I gotta go slow or I'll spill it." "What is it?" But she vouchsafed him no reply until they reached a ledge of rock over the tumbling stream, well out of sight of that light on the hill. Then she set down the object she was carrying and he saw that it was a bright tin pan, filled almost to the brim with milk. "I thought it would go good with our bread an' ham," she explained ingenuously. "I figgered from what I learned at that Hess place that they'd leave some out in the summer cellar to cream, for they ain't got any spring-house, an' they won't be likely to miss one pan out of fifteen. Besides, there's nothin' in them rules you told me that stops _me_ from beggin' or borrowin', or stealin', either, an' if I _give_ you some of this you ain't got any call to ask me where it come from." This feminine logic left Jim almost speechless, but he managed to gasp out: "The dog! Didn't he attack you?" "I guess that was what he intended, but I put down the pan an' fit him off." She added, with evident pride. "I never spilled a drop, either!" "Good Lord!" Jim ejaculated. "I believe you'd do anything once!" "I b'lieve I would, provided I wanted to," Lou agreed placidly. Then her tone changed. "There's somebody comin' up the road from Hudsondale like all in creation was after 'em." Indeed, the sound of a horse's mad gallop up the steep road by which they had come was plainly to be heard increasing in volume, and the grating jar of wheels as though a wagon were being thrown from side to side. "Think it's a runaway?" Jim rose and strained his eyes into the darkness at the farther end of the bridge. "No; driver's drunk, maybe," Lou responded. "The horse's dead beat an' he's lashin' it on. Listen!" Jim heard the wild gallop falter and drop into a weary trot, only to leap forward again with a wild scramble of hoofs on the rocky road as though the wretched animal was spurred on by sudden pain, and he clenched his hands. As though reading his thoughts, Lou remarked: "Only a beast himself would treat a horse that way. The folks at the farm where I was treated theirs somethin' terrible. If he don't look out he'll go over the side of the bridge."