"We'll go over!"
"We'll be smashed to pieces!"
"We'd better jump, if we want to save our lives!"
These and many other cries rang out. Dave and Ben were on the front seat with Horsehair, but all the others were inside, being thrown around like beans in a bag.
"Let them go!" sang out Dave. "Give them the middle of the road,—and put on the brake."
At first the driver was too scared to pay attention to Dave's words, and the youth had to lean over and pull the brake back. This all but locked the wheels and caused the carryall greatly to diminish its speed. But the horses kept dancing and plunging as madly as ever, and it looked as if at any instant they might bring the turnout to grief in one or the other of the water gullies lining the highway.
"If you fellows want to get off, drop out the back one at a time," sang out Dave, when he saw that the brake was telling on the speed of both team and carryall.
"You had better jump, too," answered one youth, as he prepared to do as advised.
"Not yet—I think the team will stop at the foot of the hill," returned Dave.
His coolness restored confidence to the others, and all remained in the carryall. Horsehair had tight hold of the reins, and now began to talk soothingly to the horses—getting back some of his own wits. Then the bottom of the hill was reached; and after a few minutes of work the team was brought down to a walk and then halted. Without waiting for an invitation, the students leaped to the ground and the school driver did likewise.