emarkable concession.

Bart saw the bulky body of the magnate fall, rather than step from the
vehicle. He landed clumsily at the side of the road, rolled up like a
ball, but unhurt.

He was so near to the grinding wheels of the vehicle and kicking hoofs
of the horses that Bart relaxed the bridles.

Instantly the horses sprang forward again, but, once clear of the
colonel's prostrate body, Bart focused his strength on a final mastery
of the maddened steeds.

He drew the bridles at a sharp, taut slant that must have cut their
mouths fearfully at the tenderest part, for they fairly screamed with
pain and terror.

He succeeded in facing them sideways, ran their heads into some brush,
vaulted over them, and, landing safely on his feet in front of them,
grabbed them near the bits and held them snorting and trembling at a
standstill.

Then he unshipped one of the lines and tied it around a sapling, stroked
the horse's heads, and succeeded in quieting them down.

Going back to the road, he discerned Colonel Harrington sitting up
rubbing his head and staring about abstractedly.

Farther away was a flying excited figure. Bart recognized the
disenthroned cabman. They met where the colonel sat.

"All gone to smash, I suppose!" hailed Carey.

"No, a window broken, wheels scraped a little--nothing worse," reported
Bart.

"Where is the team?" panted Carey.

Bart pointed and explained, and the cabman forged ahead with a gratified
snort.

"You stuck till you landed 'em," applauded Carey. "Stirling, you're
nerve all through!"

Bart went up to Colonel Harrington and the latter got on his feet. Bart
could see that either the druggist's potion or his succeeding violent
experience had quite restored the magnate to his original self. He
nursed a slight abrasion on his chin, looked at Bart sheepishly, and
then stepped over to a big bowlder and rested against it.

"Are you feeling all right now, Colonel Harrington?" asked Bart
courteously.

"Me? Now? Ah yes! Quite--er--er--thank you."

Bart was somewhat astonished at the words and manner of his whilom
enemy.

Colonel Harrington looked positively embarrassed. He would glance at
Bart, start to speak, lower his eyes, and, turning pale as he seemed to
remember, and turning red as he seemed to realize, would fumble at his
watch fob, run his fingers through his hair and act flustered generally.

"The cab will be back in a few minutes," remarked Bart. "It was a pretty
bad sh