They alighted in the roadway with so slight a jar that he
scarcely staggered, but set the girl down gently, and for the
passing of a breath her body swayed against him, seeking support.

Then she sprang a little away, and they stood looking at each
other--Hiram panting and flushed, the girl with wide-open eyes
out of which the terror had not yet faded, and cheeks still
colorless.

So they stood, for fully half a minute, speechless, while the
thunder of the bay's hoofs passed further and further away and
finally was lost in the distance.

And it wasn't excitement that kept the boy dumb; for that was all
over, and he had been as cool as need be through the incident.
But it was unbounded amazement that made him stare so at the
slight girl confronting him.

He had seen her brilliant, dark little face before. Only
once--but that one occasion had served to photograph her features
on his memory.

For the second time he had been of service to her; but he knew
instantly--and the fact did not puzzle him--that she did not
recognize him.

It had been so dark in the unlighted side street back in
Crawberry the evening of their first meeting that Hiram believed
(and was glad) that neither she nor her father would recognize
him as the boy who had kept their carriage from going into the