boat whistle
sounded, and he had to leave it to open the draw. The steamboat passed
through, and then he noticed another boat coming down the lake, although
some distance off.

As there were just then no passengers wishing passage over the bridge,
Ralph decided to leave the draw open for a few minutes, until the boat had
time to go through.

He sat down to finish his lunch. He had just raised a bit of home-made
berry pie to his mouth, when a clatter on the Westville turnpike startled
him.

"My gracious! a runaway!" cried old Bob Sanderson.

Ralph leaped to his feet, and saw that his old helper was right. There,
tearing along the road that led from the village center was an elegant team
of black horses, attached to a large open carriage.

"It's Mrs. Carrington's team!" cried Pickley. "And blame me if the old lady
and her daughter ain't in the carriage!"

"The team is coming this way!" put in Bob Sanderson. "I wonder if we can't
stop them?"

"Not much!" roared Pickley. "Get out of the way, or you'll be knocked down
and killed!"

Sanderson was too old a man to attempt to subdue the fiery steeds, and he
quickly followed Pickley out of harm's way.

In the meantime Ralph stood undecided as to what to do. Should he run
forward, and try to bring the horses to a standstill before the bridge was
reached?

"It won't do," he muttered, half-aloud. "I might miss them, and then----"

He thought no further, but with a bound, sprang to the capstan bar, and
with might and main strove to swing the heavy bridge around into place,
thus closing the draw.

It was hard work, and the sweat poured from his face and down his chin. But
he kept at it, noting at each turn how close the steeds and the elegant
turnout were drawing.

At last, with a shock and a quiver, the draw-bridge reached its resting
piers. As it did so Ralph gave the bar and capstan a jerk from the hole in
which it worked. He threw it aside, just as the front hoofs of the runaways
struck the long planking at the end of the bridge.

[Illustration: "Coming on at breakneck speed." See page 72.]

"Help! help!" came in a female voice from the carriage, and the young
bridge tender saw that both Mrs. Carrington and her daughter were preparing
to leap out.

"Don't jump!" he screamed, and then made a dash for the horses' heads.

The fact that they had struck the bridge caused the team to slacken their
pace a bit. Taking advantage of this, Ralph caught them by both bri