There was a pause, and then the four girls burst out laughing. The young farmer joined in heartily.
“In fact, sir,” went on Miss Campbell, smiling sweetly on the young man, “we are very hungry.”
“That is really too bad,” he exclaimed, making an effort to compose his face. “These country hotels are dreadful, I know from experience. If you had only visited private houses, I am sure you would have been well fed. But, if you will just go up to the house, I will follow and we’ll see what can be done in the way of provisions.”
It was evident that Pocohontas did not care for the Comet. She curvetted and circled around and stood on her hind legs in a most alarming manner. Suddenly, with a wild neigh, she made for the open field at one side of the road. Her driver, taken by surprise, was thrown backward. It was an easy fall on soft turf, and no harm would have been done if his foot had not got caught in a loop on the reins and, to their horror, they saw him dragged after the sulky, in danger of being killed at any moment.
Giving the motor car a sharp turn, Billie put on all speed and followed the runaway. In another instant they had covered the width of the field, some distance above Pocohontas’ mad course. With a bound, Billie leaped to the ground, and as the mare came tearing up, the young girl jumped at her bridle, caught it with one hand, was dragged a few feet, then seized it with the other, and held on with all her might. Pocohontas was a small horse, and not difficult to curb, once her reins were in a good grip. She stopped, reared back, and then stood perfectly still, quivering all over in a state of palsied excitement.
Miss Campbell had shrieked and covered her face with her hands to shut out the dreadful sight of Billie being trampled to death. But Billie had a cool head and a brave heart, and such excellent qualities make a wonderful combination. The other girls jumped out of the car and hastened to the farmer, while across the fields farm hands came running from every direction.
The young man had only lost consciousness for a moment, and when his foot was disentangled from that diabolical loop, he was able to stagger to his feet.
“Are you much hurt, Mr. Moore,” demanded two of the men supporting him on either side, while two others relieved Billie of the excitable Pocohontas.
“Only a sprain,” he answered. “This brave young lady has saved my life.”
“I’m afraid our motor car caused all the trouble,” exclaimed Billie. She never said “my motor car.” Her friends often noticed this. But she had been brought up by a very genuine and fine man, and was as modest and simple as her father himself.