Noon
A mongrel cur might have kept up , much less a seasoned thoroughbred . Up and down hill ahead of him the car swayed and wallowed laboriously in an unused , gully-washed road . There was constant shade in which to stop and pant , there were frequent streams in which to lie for a moment , half submerged , and cool his boiling blood . Noon passed without any halt . The sultry afternoon wore slowly away . Still the big setter , his silver-studded collar tinkling slightly like tiny shining castanets , galloped after that disreputable car as if he belonged to it and had been left carelessly behind . It never entered his head to turn back .