THE MALTESE CAT
few yards. Kittiwynk knew that stroke of old, and followed as a cat follows a mouse. While the Captain of the Archangels was wrenching his pony round, Hughes struck with all his strength, and next instant Kittiwynk was away, Corks following close behind her, their little feet pattering like raindrops on glass.
"Pull out to the left," said Kittiwynk between her teeth; "it 's coming your way, Corks!"
The back and half-back of the Archangels were tearing down on her just as she was within reach of the ball. Hughes leaned forward with a loose rein, and cut it away to the left almost under Kittiwynk 's foot, and it hopped and skipped off to Corks, who saw that, if he was not quick it would run beyond the boundaries. That long bouncing drive gave the Archangels time to wheel and send three men across the ground to head off Corks. Kittiwynk stayed where she was; for she knew the game. Corks was on the ball half a fraction of a second before the others came up, and Macnamara, with a backhanded stroke, sent it back across the ground to Hughes, who saw the way clear to the Archangels' goal, and smacked the ball in before any one quite knew what had happened.
"That 's luck," said Corks, as they changed ends. "A goal in three minutes for three hits, and no riding to speak of."
"'Don't know," said Polaris. "We 've made 'em angry too soon. Should n't wonder if they tried to rush us off our feet next time."
"Keep the ball hanging, then," said Shiraz. "That wears out every pony that is not used to it."