“Who’d take a risk like that?” asked Bob, from the rear seat. “In fact, I don’t see how you are going to work it, Jerry.”
“I don’t quite know myself; but I’m going to try. You know the way a mounted policeman stops a runaway team is to ride up alongside of them, get his horse to going at the same speed as the bolters, and then gradually bring them to a stop.”
“And you’re going to try that?” asked Bob, incredulously.
“Sure! Why not? It’s the only thing to do,” answered Jerry, calmly. “If those horses keep on down the Hoyt street hill they’ll go smack into the river! It’s a pity they didn’t get auto engines while they were at it.”
“That’s right!” agreed Ned. “Keep on, Jerry, old man!”
“I will! Hold tight, though, fellows, when it comes to the last lap. There may be an upset!”
Indeed the boys were taking a desperate chance. The frightened horses, hitched to the heavy engine, were pulling it along at top speed, and the downward slope of the street added to their momentum. As yet the grade was gradual, but, a little farther on, the slant was more decided, leading down to the river.
Hoyt street turned at the end, and went along the river bank, but at the speed they were going it would be impossible for the horses to make the turn, the boys thought.
By this time a number of persons, some of whom had left the meeting, were in the street, following after the runaway engine, and shouting wildly. One or two persons in automobiles started after the speeding horses, but Jerry’s car was well in the lead, though the horses had a good start.
The engineer of the steamer, realizing the danger should any pedestrians or persons in vehicles get in the path of the wild horses, pulling the tons of steel and fire behind them, kept the whistle going spasmodically.