ed under the
cutter.

"We'll make it, Bud, we'll make it. We've _got_ to make it. I'll drive
like mad. We'll start to pass them and I'll run Blossom as close as I
dare and then when we get abreast of the horse you hang out upon the
running-board, and jump for the shafts of the cutter. Get astride the
horse's back and grab those reins. Get ready, Bud! Out on the
running-board, now! Hurry!" cried Bruce.

Blossom was drawing abreast of the cutter. Bud clung to the
running-board and crouched for a spring.

"Go it, Blossom," cried Bruce. "Good old girl, go it. Go on, go on.
Get ready, Bud--steady--ready now--_jump_!"

Bud reached far out and leaped. One foot struck the shafts. He threw
himself forward and grasped the runaway's mane and in an instant he had
swung himself astride the horse's back. For a moment all that he could
do was cling to the swaying animal And when the horse felt the extra
weight drop upon him he bounded forward like a stag uttering a shrill
whinny of fear.

For a fleeting moment the lad thought of the peril of his position. But
when he recalled that the lives of two women depended upon him, he became
active. Reaching forward he grasped the broken line and the long one and
forced the bit home into the horse's mouth. The animal snorted and
plunged. Bud pulled back again. The runaway reared and pawed the air,
snorting and shaking its massive bead. "Whoa," cried the scout, "whoa,
boy, steady now," and it seemed as if the animal recognized the authority
in his command for the next time the lad reined in the panic-stricken
horse slowed up and presently came to a complete standstill and stood
trembling like a leaf.

Then, when the scout looked up for the first time, there, not twenty
yards away, was the railroad crossing, with the freight train rumbling
slowly by.

"Fine work, Bud, fine," cried Bruce, who had pulled in on Blossom the
moment the scout had jumped from the sleigh. "Fine work,
and--and--gee! but it was a narrow escape."

Indeed it had been a narrow escape. Bud realized it as well as Bruce.
And so did the woman and the little girl in the cutter, for their faces
were white and they hardly had strength enough left to step from the
cutter when Bruce tried to assist them.

"Goodness me, what a day--what a day," said the woman, trembling with
nervousness. And when the little girl heard this she began to cry.

"Oh, mother, I'm unhappy, too," she wept. "Poor Nanny, poor