Victor Appleton (house Name) Read Free Page B

leaning forward, as if about to leap from the wagon.
    "She's lost her head," thought Tom. "No wonder! That's a skittish
horse."
    Faster and faster he rode, bending all his energies to overtake the
animal. The wagon was swaying from side to side, and more than once
the woman just saved herself from being thrown out by grasping the
edge of the seat. She found that her standing position was a
dangerous one and crouched on the bottom of the swaying vehicle.
    "That's better!" shouted Tom, but it is doubtful if she heard him,
for the rattling of the wagon and the hoofbeats of the horse drowned
all other sounds. "Sit still!" he shouted. "I'll stop the horse for
you!"
    Trying to imagine himself in a desperate race, in order to excite
himself to greater speed, Tom continued on. He was now even with the
tail-board of the wagon, and slowly creeping up. The woman was all
huddled up in a lump.
    "Grab the reins! Grab the reins!" shouted Tom. "Saw on the bit! That
will stop him!"
    The occupant of the wagon turned to look at the lad. Tom saw that
she was a handsome young lady. "Grab the reins!" he cried again.
"Pull hard!"
    "I—I can't!" she answered frightenedly. "They have dropped down!
Oh, do please stop the horse! I'm so—so frightened!"
    "I'll stop him!" declared the youth firmly, and he set his teeth
hard. Then he saw the reason the fair driver could not grasp the
lines. They had slipped over the dashboard and were trailing on the
ground.
    The horse was slacking speed a bit now, for the pace was telling on
his wind. Tom saw his opportunity, and with a sudden burst of energy
was at the animal's head. Steering his wheel with one hand, with the
other the lad made a grab for the reins near the bit. The horse
swerved frightenedly to one side, but Tom swung in the same
direction. He grasped the leather and then, with a kick, he freed
himself from the bicycle, giving it a shove to one side. He was now
clinging to the reins with both hands, and, being a muscular lad and
no lightweight, his bulk told.
    "Sit—still!" panted our hero to the young woman, who had arisen to
the seat. "I'll have him stopped in half a minute now!"
    It was in less time than that, for the horse, finding it impossible
to shake off the grip of Tom, began to slow from a gallop to a trot,
then to a canter, and finally to a slow walk. A moment later the
horse had stopped, breathing heavily from his run.
    "There, there, now!" spoke Tom soothingly. "You're all right, old
fellow. I hope you're not hurt"—this to the young lady—and Tom
made a motion to raise his cap, only to find that it had blown off.
    "Oh, no—no; I'm more frightened than hurt."
    "It was all my fault," declared the young inventor. "I should not
have swung into the road so suddenly. My bicycle alarmed your
horse."
    "Oh, I fancy Dobbin is easily disturbed," admitted the fair driver.
"I can't thank you enough for stopping him. You saved me from a bad
accident."
    "It was the least I could do. Are you all right now?" and he handed
up the dangling reins. "I think Dobbin, as you call him, has had
enough of running," went on Tom, for the horse was now quiet.
    "I hope so. Yes, I am all right. I trust your wheel is not damaged.
If it is, my father, Mr. Amos Nestor, of Mansburg, will gladly pay
for its repair."
    This reminded the young inventor of his bicycle, and making sure
that the horse would not start up again, he went to where his wheel
and his cap lay. He found that the only damage to the bicycle was a
few bent spokes, and, straightening them and having again apologized
to the young woman, receiving in turn her pardon and thanks, and
learning that her name was Mary Nestor, Tom once more resumed his
trip. The wagon followed him at a distance, the horse evincing no
desire now to get out of a slow amble.
    "Well, things are certainly happening to me to-day," mused Tom as he
pedaled on. "That might have been a serious runaway if there'd been
anything in the road."
    Tom did not stop to think that he had been