e, the vehicle
swayed to one side, caught somehow on one of the king beams of the
bridge and hung there.

"Come on!" cried Blake, increasing his speed; "we've got a chance
of saving them yet!"

CHAPTER III

A SURPRISE

They reached--only just in time--the broken and
collapsed carriage with its two front wheels mere twisted and
splintered spokes. The moving picture boys reached it, and with
strong and capable hands pulled it back from the brink of the
ravine, over which it hung. In the depths below the horse lay,
very still and quiet.

"Pull back!" directed Blake, but Joe needed no urging. A slight
difference--inches only--meant safety or death--terrible injury at
best, for the ravine was a hundred feet deep. But those few inches
were on the side of safety.

So evenly was the carriage poised, that only a little strength was
needed to send it either way. But Joe and Blake pulled it back on
the unwrecked portion of the bridge approach.

The two men were still on the seat, but it had broken in the
middle, pitching them toward the center, and they were wedged
fast. Hank Duryee, the town livery driver, did not seem to be
hurt, though there was an anxious look on his face, and he was
very pale, which was unusual for him.

As for the other man he seemed to have fainted. His eyes were
closed, but his swarthy complexion permitted little diminution in
his color. There was a slight cut on his head, from which had
trickled a little blood that ran down to his white collar.

"Easy, boys!" cautioned Hank, and his voice rasped out in the
quiet that succeeded the staccato noise from the motor cycle. "Go
easy now! A touch'll send us down," and he gazed shudderingly into
the depths below.

"We've got you," Blake assured him, as he and Joe drew still
farther back on the platform of the bridge what was left of the
carriage. As they did so one of the rear wheels collapsed, letting
the seat down with a jerk.

"Oh!" gasped Hank, and a tremor seemed to go through the
insensible frame of the other.

"It's all right," Blake assured the livery stable driver. "You
can't fall far."

"Not as far as down--there," and Hank pointed a trembling finger
into the depths of the ravine.

"Can you get out--can you walk?" asked Joe.

"Yes. I'm more scared than hurt," Hank made answer.

"How about him?" asked Blake, motioning to the other occupant of
the carriage.

"Only a little cut on the head, where he banged, up against the