It won't hurt you. Then you can go home, and I hope you
will not be late for dinner."
"But," began Neville, "I can't understand--"
"My time is valuable," said the wee yellow man, as he shook hands.
"Good-bye, and a pleasant journey." With that he smacked the Cloud
Horse smartly on the flank, and in a moment it was racing into the
West at a most terrific pace.
Of course, now that aeroplanes have been invented, flying is not
thought so wonderful as once it was. But loafing along through the air
in a biplane or a monoplane at eighty or a hundred miles an hour is a
very tame business when you compare it with racing the day round the
world on a Cloud horse. And Neville is very probably the only person
who has ever done that yet.
Almost before he knew what had happened, he had left evening far
behind and was riding in broad daylight. The cloud Horse had ridden
high in the air, and Neville saw the broad country, with plains and
hills and forest lands, stretched far beneath him. An instant later,
and the land was no longer below him, but the wide sea, sparkling in
brilliant sunlight.
Before he had time to notice very much he had reached mid-day, high
over a strange foreign land, and was racing through the morning toward
the dawn.
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