the element of peril.

Lying prostrate on the sloping trunk, Hiram could see much
farther up the road. The outstretched head and lathered breast
of a tall bay horse leaped into view, and like a picture in a
kinetoscope, growing larger and more vivid second by second, the
maddened animal came down the road.

Hiram could see that the beast was not riderless, but it was
a moment or two--a long-drawn, anxious space of heart-beaten
seconds--ere he realized what manner of rider it was who clung so
desperately to the masterless creature.

"It's a girl--a little girl!" gasped Hiram.

She was only a speck of color, with white, drawn face, on the
back of the racing horse.

Every plunge of the oncoming animal shook the little figure as
though it must fall from the saddle. But Hiram could see that
she hung with phenomenal pluck to the broken bridle and to the
single horn of her side-saddle.

If the horse fell, or if she were shaken free, she would be flung
to instant death, or be fearfully bruised under the pounding
hoofs of the big horse.

The young farmer's appreciation of the peril was instant; unused
as he was to meeting such emergency, there was neither panic nor
hesitancy in his actions.