"Oh, dad, if he only is!"
"Well, by the god Billiken he is! Look yonder."
A more dumbfounded man than Shelby it would have been hard to overtake.
"Had he seen the cab?"
"Certain. It was hiking along ahead. Passed him just a little time before, the horse a-lather. Wondered who the fools were."
"Well, you know now. How far ahead do you reckon they are?"
"Quarter mile beyond that turn if the horse ain't fell dead. Let me break away, overhaul them and then you two come in at the death," he laughed.
Shelby was riding Shashai, and at his word a black streak passed out of sight around the bend of the boulevard. Star and Columbine chafed to follow, but their riders held them back for a time.
True enough, as Shelby had said, the cab was still pounding along toward Washington, though the poor horse was nearly done up.
Shelby came abreast the poor panting beast, leaned quietly over, caught the bridle and cried, "Whoa!" The horse was only too delighted to oblige him. Not so "Cabby."