“What caused the runaway, Minnie?” asked Frank, as they walked on, after Ralph had secured Frank’s coat and shoes, the warm sunshine and air rapidly drying the water-soaked garments of the party.
“I really hardly know. Something I said must have made Lef angry, for he began to whip the horse unmercifully, although I told him it was cruel. We had turned to come back, you see. Oh! I was so frightened! I’ll never go riding with him again. I only hope my mother will never know,” she said, entreatingly.
“She won’t from me, and I can answer for Ralph here,” said Frank, promptly.
Half an hour later the boys parted from Minnie and turned toward Frank’s house.
“What’s the matter with your arm, Frank?” asked Ralph, who had been noticing that the other kept feeling of it every now and then.
“I’m afraid I bruised it against a rock when I jumped in; and, hang the luck, of course it happens to be my pitching wing. You may have to get in that box to-day, after all, Ralph, and fight for the glory of Old Columbia,” the other said, soberly.
CHAPTER XII
THE OLD PRINCETONIAN’S ADVICE
“Oh! I hope not!” exclaimed Ralph, in dismay, as he eagerly pounced on the arm Frank had been rubbing.
“Come in with me, and I’ll see what some liniment can do for it,” remarked the other, calmly; but it was evident from his manner that he believed there might be something more serious the matter than a slight bruise.
When Frank had stripped, so that his arm could be examined, it was found that he had a nasty black and blue mark as a result of coming in contact with a rock in his impetuous dash into the river.