“My goodness!” gasped Aunt ’Mira. “Ain’t she the dressy thing? I guess she’s one o’ them city high-fliers with more money than brains. But, dear suz, Janice! ain’t that a be-you-tiful plume in her hat?”
Janice, however, had something beside the plume in the girl’s hat to observe. The horse the strange young lady drove was not at all used to automobiles. Janice stopped the engine and halted the car almost instantly; but the horse was standing on his hind legs, pawing the air, and backing the road-cart into the ditch; while the girl foolishly sawed on the bit and screeched at the top of her voice.
CHAPTER IX
ANNETTE BOWMAN
Janice leaped out of her car and ran toward the frightened horse.
“Stop pulling on the reins! Stop it—do!” she begged of the girl driving. “See! he’ll come down if you’ll let him.”
With slackened reins the horse dropped his fore-hoofs to the ground. Janice seized the bridle and stopped him from backing farther. The girl in the cart, the moment the peril was over, began to berate Janice in a most unladylike manner.
“I declare! you ought to be punished for this!” she cried angrily. “Suppose he had backed me into that ditch? I might have been killed. There should be a law against letting a girl like you run motor-cars! If that’s your mother in the car I hope she hears me say it.”
“I stopped as soon as I saw you,” answered Janice, mildly, when the other halted for breath.
“It’s lucky you did!” snapped the strange girl. “And now I suppose this silly horse won’t even go past your car when it’s standing still.”
For the frightened animal that Janice held by the bridle pointed quivering ears at the car and showed other traces of excitement.