CHAPTER X
FELLOW TRAVELERS
It is sometimes said that in moments of danger one's whole life passes swiftly in review through the mind, but Betty always declared that she had just a single thought when it seemed that in another moment she would be trampled under the mare's hoofs; she had not telegraphed to her uncle and he would not know where she had gone.
The horse continued to cover the ground rapidly, and then, when it had almost reached the terrified girl, fear lent sudden wings to Betty's leaden feet. She turned and ran.
Speeding over the field toward the fence at the other end, she could hear the steady pounding of the mare's hoofs, though she did not dare to glance over her shoulder. Her thoughts worked busily, trying to figure out a way to climb over or under the fence, and she had a lively fear of those terrible teeth nipping her as she tried to climb. As the fence seemed to her strained vision to rise suddenly from the ground and come to meet her, a way to safety opened.
Before she began to run she had unconsciously stooped to gather her sweater from the ground where she had dropped it, and now she turned and waved the garment frantically in the furious animal's face. Bewildered and confused, the mare stopped, and, as Betty continued to flap the sweater, she turned and dashed back to her colt. Weakly the girl tumbled over the fence and the adventure was over.
"She thought you were going to hurt Pinto," said Mrs. Brill, when she heard the story. "Goodness, I certainly am glad you had the presence of mind to shake your sweater at old Phyllis. Wouldn't it have been dreadful if she had bitten you!"
The next morning, Betty said good-by to the hospitable family who had been so wonderfully kind to her, and, much refreshed after a luxurious hot bath and a night's sleep in the pretty guest room, took the trolley car into town with Mr. Brill, who at the station door bade her farewell in his capacity of host and two minutes later as telegraph operator sent her message to Uncle Dick in Washington.
The 7:45 was on time to the minute, and as the long train pulled in and the porter helped her on, Betty drew a long breath of relief. Surely there could be no more delays and in a comparatively few hours she might hope to be with her uncle and know the comfort of telling him her experiences instead of trusting their recital to letters.
The train had been made up late the night before and many of the passengers were still sleepy-eyed after restless hours in their berths. A good many of them were at breakfast in the dining car, and as there was no parlor car Betty had to take half a section already occupied by a rather frowsy young woman with two small children.