There wasn't any of them very good riders, and this horse, being a bad actor, scared the others. They all bolted off, not seeming to know that this girl had fell off. She lit on her head.
Bonnie Bell seen all this happen, and she gets out of her car on the keen lope and runs over to where the girl is and picks her up. Her and a policeman took her in Bonnie Bell's brougham. She didn't know nothing yet, being jolted some on the head.
Now that girl was pretty as a picture herself, with light hair and blue eyes, and kind of a big mouth. She was smiling even when she didn't know a thing. She was always smiling. She was dressed like she had lots of money; and she was fixed for riding—boots and some sort of pants.
Bonnie Bell couldn't bring her to and she concludes to take her home to our house. First thing I know, there she was outside, hollering for me.
"Come here quick, Curly!" says she. "Come help me carry her into the house."
So I helped her. The girl still had her quirt in her hand and she was kind of white.
"Who is she, Bonnie Bell?" says I; and she says she didn't know, and tells me to go and get a doctor.
But while I was getting William to telephone—I couldn't use them things much myself—the girl comes to, all right; and she sets up and rubs her head.
"Oh, what do you know about that!" says she. "He got me off. I thank you so much. Which way did he go?" she ast.
"He was headed to the riding-school barn," says Bonnie Bell, "the last I saw of him. Your friends were all going the same way. So I thought the best thing I could do was to bring you here till you felt better."