"Pull in, pull in!" cried Richard excitedly. "I think I see something!"
With a sharp "Whoa!" Warren brought the buggy to a standstill.
"Unscrew one of the lights," he directed Richard, at the same time jumping out and running to Tony's head with the rope and weight, a wise precaution for the horse might take fright easily in that strange place and start to run. "Come on, Jack."
They had to go only a few rods. Then the buggy lamp and the pocket flash showed them the runabout, with something dark and small curled up on the seat. The mare was down between the shafts and she raised her head inquiringly as the lights flashed into her patient eyes.
"Sarah—asleep!" whispered Jack. "And the pig, too!"
"Belle fell down and Sarah couldn't get her up," said Warren, realizing at once what had occurred. "The poor kid—she must have been frightened stiff."
Jack pulled himself up on the runabout step and leaned over Sarah. The tears were not dry on her cheeks and as he looked she opened her dark eyes with a little cry.
"You're all right, Sarah," he said soothingly. "Warren and Richard and I have come to take you home."
To his astonishment, Sarah, who hated demonstration of any kind, threw her arms about his neck and burrowed her face on his shoulder. Bony rolled protestingly to the floor and squeaked sharply as he hit the dashboard in his descent.
"The horse fell down," sobbed Sarah, "and she wouldn't get up. And it got darker and darker and there weren't any houses anywhere. Is Belle dead, Jack?"