A pause ensued, and then I started a running match. Fritz, Ernest and Jack were to run to Falconhurst, by the most direct path. The first to reach the tree was to bring me, in proof of his success, a penknife I had accidentally left on the table in my sleeping-room.
At a given signal, away went the racers in fine style. Fritz and Jack, putting forth all their powers, took the lead at once, running in advance of Ernest, who started at a good steady pace, which I predicted he would be better able to maintain than such a furious rate as his brothers.
But long before we expected to see them back, a tremendous noise of galloping caused us to look with surprise towards the bridge, and Jack made his appearance, thundering along on his buffalo, with the onager and the donkey tearing after him ri
