aside in time to avoid a collision. He caught a glimpse of the pale face of the girl in the carriage.
A man ran out and waved his arms at the horse, but he jumped aside when the animal came straight on without swerving.
Another dog darted after the runaway, barking furiously and adding to its terror and speed.
June turned and looked back. She saw the bicyclist coming after her, and she was not so frightened that she failed to recognize Dick Merriwell.
The dog that had barked at the horse got in Dick’s road and barely sprang aside in time. Had the wheel struck the animal Dick’s pursuit might have ended there in a twinkling.
It was astonishing how fast young Merriwell flew over the ground. He strained every nerve. Dick soon saw he was gaining. Fortunately the street was long and straight, and the runaway kept a fairly straight course. The reins were on the ground, and it seemed that the girl could do nothing to help herself. Once she partly rose, as if to spring from the carriage.
“Don’t do it!” cried Dick. “Hold on! I’ll save you!”
Did she hear him? Whether she did or not, she sank back on the seat and looked round again.
The lad on the bicycle was nearer – he was gaining. It happened that Dick had seized a racing-wheel that was geared very high. Fortunately the road was level and fairly good for his purpose.
Out of Hudsonville tore the runaway, but Dick was close to the carriage when the horse reached the outskirts of the town. He was confident then that he would soon overtake the horse. But could he stop the animal then?
Watching for the opportunity, Dick pushed the wheel along by the side of the carriage. Not a word did he speak to the girl, and she made no appeal to him.
Strange as it may seem, all the fear had departed from June, and she was watching Dick’s efforts with curiosity and confidence. Here was a fellow to be admired. She asked herself how he would stop the horse, but she believed that somehow he would succeed.
Past the carriage Dick forged. The wheel whirled beneath him. On the hard road the hoofs of the horse beat a tattoo. The wind was whistling in the lad’s ears, but he heard it not. Cold and keen, it cut his face, but he minded it not.
Nearer, nearer, nearer. Now he was at the fore quarters of the horse, and he gathered himself for a last burst of speed, fearing the creature might see him and sheer suddenly to one side. In a sudden fine spurt he was at the head of the horse. Then his hands left the handlebars. In a twinkling he had the horse by the bit with one hand, while the fingers of the other fastened on the animal’s nostrils, closing them instantly.
The bicycle went down, and the wheels of the carriage crashed over it, but Dick had swung free, and he clung like grim death to the horse.
June Arlington watched that struggle, her heart swelling at the heroism and nerve of the boy who had ridden thus to her rescue. To her it was a grand struggle, and her faith in her savior never faltered for a second.
The horse tried to fling up his head, but the weight of the boy held it down. It seemed that his feet might strike the lad and cause him to relinquish his hold. In that case, Dick would fall beneath the iron hoofs, to be maimed or killed.
But the horse could not breathe, his nostrils being closed, and this soon caused it to show signs of weakness. Its speed decreased, and Dick, clinging there desperately, felt that the battle would be won if he could hold out a little longer.
Could he? He had made up his mind that he would – that nothing on earth should prevent it. When Dick set his mind on anything like that he always won, and this case was no exception. Little by little the horse faltered. And then, with surprising suddenness, it gave out entirely and stopped.
Dick did not relinquish his hold at once. He held on, talking to the animal and trying to allay its fears. In this he succeeded wonderfully, until he soon was confident enough to let up and permit the animal to breathe.
When the creature was fully quieted and under control, young Merriwell turned to the girl in the carriage. He was hatless, flushed, triumphant, handsome.
“You are quite safe, Miss Arlington,” he said.
“Thanks to you,” she answered, in a voice that did not tremble. “But I knew you would do it!”
Dick picked up the reins from the ground when he had succeeded in quieting the horse, and climbed into the carriage.
Two men driving out of town in pursuit of the runaway met Dick Merriwell, with June Arlington at his side, serenely driving back into town.
“By thunder!” said one of the men wonderingly. “This beats the world! He’s stopped the horse and is driving the critter back as cool as you please.”
“Who is he?” asked the other man.
“Dick Merriwell, brother of Frank Merriwell, the great Yale athlete, who used to go to school at Fardale.”
“Well, he’s a good one.”
“A good one! He’s a rip-snorter! Not many boys of his years could ’a’ done that job!”
Dick spoke to them pleasantly.
“We were after the runaway,” said one of the men; “but I rather think you don’t need none of our help.”
“Thank you, no,” said Dick. “But you might drive on a short distance and pick up that bicycle. I think it is pretty badly smashed. If you’ll bring it back to the hotel I’ll be much obliged.”
“We’ll do it,” said both men.
“Good boy! Well done!” was shouted at him from all sides as he drove along the main street toward the hotel.
When he reached the hotel he found a crowd gathered there. Chester Arlington, pale as a ghost and covered with dirt, was sitting on the steps.
The Fardale crowd was on hand to cheer Dick, but he called on them to be quiet.
“This horse is nervous enough now,” he said. “Do you want to start him off again?”
“He’d be all right with you behind him,” declared Joe Savage.
“That’s Dick Merriwell!” piped a small boy, bursting with enthusiastic admiration. “Ain’t he jest a peacherino!”
“Boy, it’s marvelous!” declared a man. “You deserve great credit. It may be that you saved this girl’s life! She shouldn’t forget that.”
“I won’t!” murmured June, loud enough for Dick to hear.
The driver took the horse by the head.
“I’ll hold him,” he said, “while you get out. I don’t know how I can thank you for keeping him from smashing the carriage and injuring himself.”
“Where is my bicycle?” asked the boy from whose hands Dick had snatched the wheel.
“Here it comes,” Dick answered, noting that the two men in the team were approaching, with the ruined bicycle held before them. “But I’m afraid you’ll never ride it again.”
“Well, that’s pretty tough on me,” said the boy,
