y out of the yard and up the road, for Madelon had
not put on the bells. The old white went rather stiffly and steadily
for the first quarter-mile; then he made a leap forward with a great
lift of his lean white flanks, and they flew.

Dorothy gave a terrified gasp. "Don't be frightened," Madelon said.
"It's the horse that used to beat everything in the county. He's old
now, but when he gets warmed up he's the fastest horse around for a
short stretch. He can't hold out long, but while he does he goes; and
I want to get a good start. I want to strike the New Salem road as
soon as I can."

Madelon had a growing fear lest Eugene might have freed himself, and
might ride the roan across by a shorter cut, and so intercept her at
the turn into the New Salem road. He might easily suspect her of
attempting to see Burr again. If she passed the turn first she could
probably escape him if her horse held out; and, indeed, he might not
think she had gone that way if he did not see her.

Dorothy held fast to the side of the sleigh, which seemed to rise
from the track as they sped on. "Don't be frightened," Madelon said
again. "This is the only horse in town that can beat my father's on a
short stretch, and I don't know that he can always, but I don't think
he has been used, and father's was ridden hard yesterday. I can
manage this one in harness better than I can father's. Don't be
frightened." But Dorothy's face grew pale as the swan's-down around
it, and her great blue eyes were fixed fearfully upon the bounding
heels and flanks of the old white race-horse.

Madelon strained her eyes ahead as they neared the turn of the New
Salem road. There was nobody in sight. Then she glanced across the
fields at the right. Suddenly she swung out the reins over the back
of the old white, and hallooed, and stood up in the sleigh.

Dorothy screamed faintly. "Sit still and hold on!" Madelon shouted.
Dorothy shut her eyes. It seemed to her she was being hurled through
space. Her slender body swung to and fro against the sleigh as she
clung frantically to it.

Eugene Hautville, on the roan, was coming at a mad run across the
open field on the right towards the turn of the road. It seemed for a
second as if Madelon would reach it before he did; but they met
there, and the roan reared to a stop in the narrow road directly in
front of the old white, who plunged furiously.

"Look out there!" shouted Eugene, as the sleigh tilted on the
snow-crust