The girl was unable to regain her seat, and at every leap of her horse was tossed, now almost touching the ground, and again almost as high as the horse’s back. Could she retain her grip until Rodney might reach the bridle rein?
Every moment the boy expected to see her dashed to the ground and trampled to death under the hoofs of the running horses. He shut his eyes for an instant, and then urged faithful Nat to the utmost, and could feel his muscles respond to the strain.
Inch by inch, Nat gained on the runaway. The boy leaned far out to seize the loose bridle rein. He could not quite reach it; another foot and he would have it within his grasp. Ah! Now he gripped it and pulled both horses to a stop, crying, “Are you hurt?”
“I––I’m not––sure. Not seriously, I think; somewhat like Doctor Atterbury’s prescriptions, ‘well shaken before taken.’”
It was Lisbeth’s voice!
“Steady, Nat. Here, let me help. Isn’t your ankle wrenched? If I’d known who it was I’d been scared worse than I was.”
“Why, Rodney Allison! Where in the world did you come from? I was wishing some knight errant would happen along to stop Firefly; but I never imagined you in that rôle. I––I think you’ll have to help me up, my ankle is beginning to complain at the rough treatment.”
Rodney lifted Lisbeth into her saddle just as her escort and Black Tom rode up.
“Mr. Enderwood, this is my old playmate, Rodney Allison. He and I always were getting into scrapes. I’m going to ask him to sell Nat to father so my escorts can have as good a horse as Firefly. The one you have, Mr. Enderwood, has seen his best days and was no match for mine. But for you, Nat, I should have had a longer ride than––would have been agreeable.” There was a little catch in her voice.