or a long distance. It was
the sight of something coming along this thoroughfare that
attracted Joe's attention.

"What are you looking at?" asked Blake, returning after having put
away the motor cycle.

"That horse and buggy. Looks to me as though that horse was
feeling his oats, and that the fellow driving him didn't know any
more about handling the reins than the law allows."

"That's right, Joe. If he doesn't look out he'll have an upset, or
a runaway."

The vehicle in question was a light buggy; drawn by a particularly
large and spirited horse. Seated in the carriage, as the boys
could see from their point of vantage, were two men. Who they were
could not be distinguished at that distance, but the carriage was
rapidly coming nearer.

"There he goes!" suddenly cried Joe.

As his chum spoke Blake saw that one of the reins had parted,
probably because the driver pulled on it too hard in trying to
bring the restive steed down to a walk.

Once the spirited horse felt that he was no longer under control,
save by one line, which was worse than none, he sprang forward,
and at once began to gallop, pulling after him the light carriage,
which swayed from side to side, threatening every moment to
collapse, overturn, or at least be torn loose from the horse.

"There he goes!" yelled Joe again.

"I should say so!" agreed Blake. "There are going to be some
doings soon!"

This was evident, for the horse was running away, a fact not only
apparent in itself, but heralded by the looks on the faces of the
two occupants of the carriage, and by their frightened cries,
which the wind easily carried to the watching Joe Duncan and Blake
Stewart.

On the road below them, and past the boys, swept the swaying
carriage in a cloud of dust. As it was momentarily lost to sight
behind a grassy knoll, Blake cried:

"The broken bridge, Joe! The broken bridge! They're headed right
for it!"

"That's right!" exclaimed his chum. "How can we stop them?"

Once having recognized the danger, the next thought that came to
the minds of Blake and Joe, trained for emergencies, was how to
avert it. They looked at each other for a second, not to gain a
delay, but to decide on the best possible plan of saving the
imperiled men.

"The broken bridge," murmured Blake again. "That horse will never
be able to make the turn into the temporary road, going at the
speed he is!"

"No, and he's probably so frightened that he'll not try it,"
agreed