Then, from another road, an old negro appeared, seated on a wabble-wheeled cart and driving a decrepit horse. The colored man turned into the road directly in front of them.
“Jump!” yelled Cunningham. “Things are goin’ to smash in a jiffy! Jump!”
He rose to leap out, but Frank’s strong hand grasped him and flung him back on the seat, while Frank’s clear voice rang out:
“If you want to escape a broken leg or neck keep still! There is one chance to stop the horses!”
Then, having risen to his feet, with a long clean leap he flung himself over the dasher of the carriage and landed astride of the “near” horse.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE TRAP.
The astounded man expected to see the college youth flung headlong to the ground, but to his still greater amazement, Frank landed fairly on the back of the horse, where he clung with perfect ease.
But not a moment was to be lost, for they were close upon the old negro, who was vainly trying to rein his horse out of the road. Still, Frank Merriwell did not seem at all nervous or excited. With a swift, sure grasp he caught both the reins and then he turned the madly running horses to one side.
Just in time. One of the carriage hubs clicked against the car as they whirled past. But a catastrophe had been averted for the time, at least.
Jack Cunningham stared as the “college chap” clung to the galloping horses, drawing strong and sure on the reins, and talking in soothing tones to the badly frightened animals.