“When they ran away,” said Elsie, “when the driver fell off, I felt that somehow, somewhere, Frank would turn up and stop them. He did it!”
Her face was full of triumph. Although she still shook with the excitement of the adventure through which she had passed, there was happiness in that look she gave him.
Somehow that look stabbed him to the heart. Was it a look of love? Why had she not fancied that Hodge might be the one to stop the horses? In that moment, when he might have been well satisfied with himself for what he had done, Frank Merriwell felt miserable.
“Elsie,” he said, “I did not know you were in the city.”
“We came to-day,” said Mrs. Parker. “I have a brother who lives in Hamden.”
They had not let him know they were coming. He did not believe Hodge had known it.
Mrs. Parker refused to ride farther in the carriage. She declared the horses could not be managed. And so, as the dirt-covered driver came panting up, angry, ashamed, and humble, Frank was helping them from the carriage. He had offered to take the driver’s place himself, but Mrs. Parker would not even trust one who had shown his power to check the mad runaways.
“I shall return in a car,” she added. “Brother George shall not induce me to come out behind those terrible creatures again.”
Elsie had given Frank’s hand a gentle pressure as he helped her to alight.
“I was awfully frightened,” she whispered; “but I knew you would stop the horses the moment I saw you.”