The last two were ill-matched; a big broad-shouldered ditcher, and a
little slender girl of barely seventeen.

The man lumbered off in a wide curve, the girl shot away like a
weasel, almost straight ahead, her red bodice like a streak of flame
and her short plait straight out ahead.

"That's it--that's the way!" cried the rest.

The girl ran straight ahead at first, Olof hardly gaining on her at
all. Then she tried a zigzag across the grass. Olof took short cuts,
increasing his pace, and was almost at her heels.

"Now, now!" cried the others behind.

The girl gave a swift glance round, saw her pursuer already stretching
out his hand, and broke away suddenly to one side.

Olof slipped, and went down full length on the grass.

The girl's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a shout of laughter came
from the rest.

Olof would have been furious, but he paid no heed to the laughter now,
having just at that moment noticed something else. The girl's glance
as she turned--heavens, what eyes! And he had never noticed her
before....

He sprang up like a rocket and continued the pursuit.