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Page 25
A fourteen-inch cannon cracker was hissing and spitting out smoke barely
two feet ahead of the terrified horses in the middle of the street.
At that moment it exploded. The horses gave a wild snort, a frightened
jerk at the reins.
Bart saw the staunch driver dragged from his seat. He lit on his feet,
braced, but was pulled over, as, with a fierce tug, the horses snapped
the line in two.
Then, unrestrained, the team shot down the street without guide or
hindrance and with the speed of the wind.
CHAPTER XI
"FORGET IT!"
The young express agent acted quickly. A single glance told him that the
driver of the cab could do nothing.
The frightened horses were speeding ahead at a furious rate, could not
be overtaken, and Bart doubted if anyone could stop them.
No one tried, but all got out of the way promptly as the team went
tearing along. The horses came to a crossing, and, terrified anew at a
spitting "Vesuvius" ahead, abruptly veered and turned down a side lane.
It was at this moment that Bart threw open the door of the cab, grasped
a handle at the side of the vehicle, and drew himself up to the driver's
seat.
The swing the horses made just then sent his feet flying out in a wild
circle, but he held on, and the rebound landed him on the seat.
Our hero cast a quick look within the vehicle. The colonel had
"rousted" up somewhat. Buffeted from side to side by the erratic and
violent movements of the horses, he was trying to maintain his balance
by frantically clinging with both hands to the cushion under him.
As a wheel struck a stone the jar drove him forward. His head smashed
out the front glass, and he uttered a yell of fear.
"Don't stir--don't jump!" shouted Bart through the opening thus made.
"We'll be killed!" cried the man.
"No, we won't. Do as I say. I'm on deck, and I'll--"
Bart sized up the situation, counted its risks and possibilities, and
described a sudden forward leap.
The lines were torn and trailing under the horses' feet. He cut the air
in a reckless, but well planned dive.
Bart landed sprawling between the two horses, his knee striking the
carriage pole.
Bracing himself there, he caught out at the head of either horse. With a
firm grip his fingers closed on the bridle reins.
Ahead was a stony wagon track lining a deep gravel pit dangerously near
its edge.
About a hundred feet further on ran the creek, sunk between banks some
fifteen feet high.
Bart drew the bridles taut. He feared the tremendous strain would break
them. The heads of the horses were now held as in a vice, but they
snorted and continued to plunge forward with undiminished speed.
As a wheel landed in a rut full of thick mud, their pace was momentarily
retarded. Bart jerked at the bridles. The horses paused fully, but
pranced and backed.
"Jump--crawl out--quick, now!" shouted Bart breathlessly to the occupant
of the cab.
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