The girls exchanged glances, and laughed over some secret joke. When, presently, they were seated together in the runaabout, with Josephine at the wheel, the bull-terrier squatted in dignity on the small back seat. The level sand formed a perfect roadway, and the car darted smoothly and swiftly between the twin barren spaces of land and sea. As they swept forward, the girls watched alertly for a glimpse of the ponies among the dunes, but there was nowhere any sign of a living thing, save the few hurrying gulls. They had gone perhaps twenty miles, and were beginning to fear disappointment, when, without warning, a drove of the horses came galloping over the crest of a little rise, a half-mile beyond. As the car ran forward, along the ribbon of sand below the higher ground, the ponies suddenly perceived it, and halted with the precision of a troop of cavalry. Near at hand, now, the girls could note details, and both observed with interest the leader, which stood a little in advance of his troop, at the end near the approaching machine. He was a handsome creature, with lines as suavely strong as an Arabian's. He stood with head held high, tail streaming, a fore-hoof pawing challengingly at the sand. Only the thick, shaggy bay coat showed the barbarian, rather than the thoroughbred. The mares, a score of them in one orderly rank behind him, were crowding and lashing out nervously, as they watched the strange monster racing so fast on the ocean's edge. Some of them nickered curiously. But the stallion rested silent, until the automobile halted, hardly fifty yards away. Then he tossed his head proudly, and blared a great trumpet-note of defiance. Josephine instinctively answered with the horn. The mechanical cry broke harshly, swelled and wailed. The eerie response terrified the mares; it perplexed and alarmed their lord. But he showed no dismay. For a moment still, he remained motionless. His noisy challenge rang forth once again. Since the invader on the sands below kept silence, nor made any movement toward attack, the leader seemed to feel that his prestige was safe enough; that prudence were now the better part. He sounded a low call, and set off at a gallop along the ridge top. The rank of mares pounded obediently at his heels. "Oh, after them, Josie!" Florence cried.