One—two—three—she counted the horses neighing and rearing at their posts. Nine! There should be ten! With a sinking of heart she looked at them all again. White Star was not there! White Star! The best of the group! How could she possibly have missed him?
Without another thought but that of her favorite mount Phyllis dashed back into the stables. One—two—three—stalls empty. Nothing but silence and the crackling of flames—flames creeping closer, destroying, and smoke.
Her head was whirling and she felt choked. Once she stumbled wildly over something and fell to her knees in the straw. She sat there several seconds, dazed. She had better find White Star soon or they would both be trapped! Why didn’t help come? Though only a few minutes could have elapsed since she and Gale first sighted the fire it seemed like hours. What was that?
An excited whinny came to her, followed by the sound of crashing blows against wood. White Star! And he was trying to kick his stall to pieces! Despite the terribly desperate situation Phyllis could not help but smile. White Star proposed to fight! She stumbled to her feet and went on prowling through the smoke until she came to the stall in which all the uproar was taking place. She felt as though all the strength in her body was leaving her. White Star was bucking and kicking with all his might. The smoke was like a blanket smothering everything and through which Phyllis felt her way to White Star’s head. She took hold of his bridle and he nuzzled against her shoulder affectionately. He seemed to recognize his friend. With her last remaining strength Phyllis cut the rope that held White Star. She turned him around and gave him a stinging blow.
“Go it, boy!”
The horse reared and plunged out through the door of his stall, leaving Phyllis a huddled figure on the straw.
Gale, after turning the electric switch that automatically sounded the fire alarm, had sped to the Dean’s office. She found Dean Travis working late. After excitedly blurting out the news Gale dashed again to the stables, stopping for nothing. She was just in time to see White Star appear.
The horse bounded out of the smoke into the cool night air. He stopped short, raised his head and whinnied, pawing the ground with his forehoof. He glanced at the other horses, straining at their ropes, tossed his head, and turning, dashed back for the burning stable.
“Phyl——” Gale shouted.