By this time Mr. Pierce had left his seat beside Tanker Ike, who was doing his best to safely guide the horses down the winding, steep road in the storm, and Mabel’s father came to the aid of her and Jack.
“I’ve got her!” Jack managed to gasp.
“So I see!” cried Mr. Pierce, and then, lending his strength to that of our hero, he pulled Mabel safely within the wagon.
“That—that was a narrow squeak,” commented Mr. Pierce, when Mabel, pale and gasping from fright, had been assisted to the seat, which was replaced and braced up after a fashion.
“Rather,” admitted Jack with a smile.
“You saved her life, Ranger,” went on Mr. Pierce, and there was a husky note in his voice. “She’s—she’s all I’ve got, and—and—I don’t know how to thank you. If she’d gone over the edge there—well, I don’t like to talk about it.”
“Oh, if I hadn’t grabbed her some one else would,” said Jack modestly.
Mabel did not say much, but the glance she gave Jack from her brown eyes more than repaid him.
The excitement caused by the second accident calmed down, and then the occupants of the wagon had time to notice that the progress of the vehicle was slower. The road was not so steep, and a little later Tanker Ike guided his horses to a comparatively level stretch. The snow squall, too, suddenly ceased.