ground.

The horse was slacking speed a bit now, for the pace was telling on
his wind. Tom saw his opportunity, and with a sudden burst of energy
was at the animal's head. Steering his wheel with one hand, with the
other the lad made a grab for the reins near the bit. The horse
swerved frightenedly to one side, but Tom swung in the same
direction. He grasped the leather and then, with a kick, he freed
himself from the bicycle, giving it a shove to one side. He was now
clinging to the reins with both hands, and, being a muscular lad and
no lightweight, his bulk told.

"Sit--still!" panted our hero to the young woman, who had arisen to
the seat. "I'll have him stopped in half a minute now!"

It was in less time than that, for the horse, finding it impossible
to shake off the grip of Tom, began to slow from a gallop to a trot,
then to a canter, and finally to a slow walk. A moment later the
horse had stopped, breathing heavily from his run.

"There, there, now!" spoke Tom soothingly. "You're all right, old
fellow. I hope you're not hurt"--this to the young lady--and Tom
made a motion to raise his cap, only to find that it had blown off.

"Oh, no--no; I'm more frightened than hurt."

"It was all my fault," declared the young inventor. "I should not
have swung into the road so suddenly. My bicycle alarmed your
horse."

"Oh, I fancy Dobbin is easily disturbed," admitted the fair driver.
"I can't thank you enough for stopping him. You saved me from a bad
accident."

"It was the least I could do. Are you all right now?" and he handed
up the dangling reins. "I think Dobbin, as you call him, has had
enough of running," went on Tom, for the horse was now quiet.

"I hope so. Yes, I am all right. I trust your wheel is not damaged.
If it is, my father, Mr. Amos Nestor, of Mansburg, will gladly pay
for its repair."

This reminded the young inventor of his bicycle, and making sure
that the horse would not start up again, he went to where his wheel
and his cap lay. He found that the only damage to the bicycle was a
few bent spokes, and, straightening them and having again apologized
to the young woman, receiving in turn her pardon and thanks, and
learning that her name was Mary Nestor, Tom once more resumed his
trip. The wagon followed him at a distance, the horse evincing no
desire now to get out of a slow amble.

"Well, things are certainly happening to me to-day," mused Tom as he
pedaled on. "That might have been a s