oke.

Instead of advancing to meet the messenger, both stood like statues in
blue overalls and red flannel shirts, till the boy arrived and told
his tale.

"Sho, that's bad," said the farmer, anxiously.

"That brook always was the darndest place," added Bijah, then both
men bestirred themselves helpfully, the former hurrying to Miss Celia
while the latter brought up the cart and made a bed of hay to lay her
on.

"Now then, boy, you go for the doctor. My women folks will see to
the lady, and she'd better keep quiet up yender till we see what the
matter is," said the farmer, when the pale girl was lifted in as
carefully as four strong arms could do it. "Hold on," he added, as Ben
made one leap to Lita's back. "You'll have to go to Berryville. Dr.
Mills is a master hand for broken bones and old Dr. Babcock aint.
'Tisn't but about three mile from here to his house, and you'll fetch
him 'fore there's any harm done waitin'."

"Don't kill Lita," called Miss Celia from the cart, as it began to
move.

But Ben did not hear her, for he was off across the fields, riding as
if life and death depended upon his speed.

"That boy will break his neck!" said Mr. Paine, standing still
to watch horse and rider go over the wall as if bent on instant
destruction.

"No fear for Ben, he can ride anything, and Lita was trained to leap,"
answered Miss Celia, falling back on the hay with a groan, for she had
involuntarily raised her head to see her little squire dash away in
gallant style.

"I should hope so; regular jockey, that boy. Never see anything like
it out of a race-ground," and farmer Paine strode on, still following
with his eye the figures that went thundering over the bridge, up the
hill, out of sight, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

Now that his mistress was safe, Ben enjoyed that wild ride mightily,
and so did the bay mare; for Lita had good blood in her, and proved it
that day by doing her three miles in a wonderfully short time. People
jogging along in wagons and country carry-alls, stared amazed as the
reckless pair went by. Women, placidly doing their afternoon sewing at
the front windows, dropped their needles to run out with exclamations
of alarm, sure some one was being run away with; children playing by
the roadside scattered like chickens before a hawk, as Ben passed with
a warning whoop, and baby-carriages were scrambled into door-yards
with perilous rapidity at his approach.

But when he clattered into t