Frank Merriwell's Races

by Burt L. Standish

He rode slowly into the outskirts of the city.

Of a sudden there was a rattle of wheels and a clatter of hoofs behind him.

He turned and looked back, to see a carriage coming along the road at a reckless rate. Two persons were seated in the carriage, and the horse was covered with sweat.

"Why are those fools driving like that?" muttered Merriwell. "Are they drunk, or is it a matter of life or death?"

"Get out of the road!"

The command was hoarsely shouted, and Frank reined aside, having no desire to get in the way of the reckless driver.

Once more the boy on the horse turned to look back.

"Drunk, sure enough," he decided. "And they are two young fellows, too. Students on a tear, perhaps."

The occupants of the carriage had been drinking heavily, but they were not so drunk that they did not recognize the boy in advance when he turned in the saddle the second time.