The gentleman's name he learned was Major Woodley, and the young lady's, of course, Edith Woodley.
Robert wished that he might have an opportunity of making the acquaintance of Major Woodley and his daughter, but while on their trip up the river chance did not favor him. The opportunity, however, was only deferred. It came at the end of the voyage.
At length they reached Wheeling, and the passengers generally disembarked. Major Woodley and his daughter were among these.
Arrived on the pier, while Major Woodley was looking out for his baggage, a horse, maddened by a blow from his brutal driver, started suddenly forward, and in an instant would have trampled Edith Woodley under his feet, had not Robert sprung forward, and clasping her round the waist, drawn her quickly out of danger.
Her father was at some distance. He happened to look up just in time to see his child's danger, but not in time to rescue her.
To his great relief he saw Robert's prompt action, and he realized that but for this, his daughter would probably have lost her life.
Filled with gratitude he hurriedly advanced, and seized Robert by the hand.
"Well done, my brave boy! You have probably saved my daughter's life. From my heart, I thank you."
"I am glad it was in my power to do her a service," said Robert, modestly.
"You exposed your own life to danger," said the Major.