e into the
sleigh with a bound, but almost before he landed Bruce had Blossom under
way. Just a touch of the whip was all that was needed and the nervous
trotter shot forward like a flash of lightning. A moment later she was a
jet black streak flying toward the corner of High Street around which the
runaway cutter had just disappeared.

Almost in the wink of an eye Blossom reached the corner and swept around
it at a gallop while the sleigh careened first on one runner and then
upon the other, each time on the brink of turning over and pitching its
occupants into the snowbanks that lined the road. But the scouts gave no
heed to this. All their attention was on the flying cutter a hundred
yards ahead and upon the railroad crossing half a mile down the road.
The freight train had left the siding, and at the moment the scouts
rounded the corner she was chugging her way slowly toward the crossing.
Of course, the gates were down but this only added to the peril. The
runaway horse was blind with fright. He would plunge into the gates,
tear through them and probably kill himself and the women in the sleigh
by dashing headlong into the freight train.

"Go it, Bruce, go it. We _must_ save them. They'll be killed if we
don't," cried the half frantic Bud.

And Bruce, pale of face but determined, cut Blossom with the whip to urge
her forward. Rarely was the trotter treated that way and when the cut
came she leapt forward like a deer. Then her racing instinct seemed to
come back to her. She knew what was wanted. The horse ahead must be
passed. She stretched her long legs to their utmost and the pace she set
made the light sleigh pitch and rock like a ship in a gale. Bruce never
used the whip again. Indeed, he tossed it into the road, for he must
needs use two hands to govern the flying horse.

The animal ahead was flying, too, and it was a question for a few moments
whether the scouts could make up the distance. But Blossom was at her
best. Faster and faster she went while town folk stood on the sidewalk
and gaped in amazement at the pace she held. The hundred yard lead was
cut down to fifty, now to forty, thirty-five, thirty. Bruce and Bud
could see the look of terror on the faces of the girl and the woman in
the cutter. Also they could see the reason for the accident. The reins
had parted and one short length dangled over the horse's side and slapped
him continually on the ribs while the longer section dragg