“What do you mean?” he shouted, fear stamped on every feature.
Shirley’s excitement fell from her like a cloak. She became quiet.
“The Darret dam has been washed away,” she answered, “and unless the people in the valley are warned immediately they will perish. There is one chance to save them. You are mounted. You can outrun the oncoming wall of water and save them. Away with you, quick! There is not a second to spare!”
“But,” protested the boy, “the water may overtake me and I shall drown. We can climb to higher ground here and be safe.”
He tried to turn his horse’s head to the east. But Shirley clung to the rein.
“And leave those people to drown, without warning?” she cried. “You coward! You are afraid!”
“I——” the boy began, but Shirley cut his protest short.
Releasing the bridle of the horse, she sprang quickly to the side of the animal, seized the rider by the leg with both her strong, young hands and pulled quickly and vigorously. Unprepared for such action, the boy came tumbling to the ground in a sprawling heap.
Quick as a flash Shirley leaped to the saddle and turned the horse’s head toward the valley. As she dug her heels into the animal’s ribs, sending him forward with a jump, she called over her shoulder to the boy, who sat still dazed at the sudden danger: