fill the volume immediately preceding this one.

And now they had returned, anticipating a second session of their
vacation. They had brought a motor cycle with which to go about
the pretty country surrounding Central Falls.

"For," reasoned Blake, "we haven't much time left this summer, and
if we want to enjoy ourselves we'll have to hustle. A motor cycle
is the most hustling thing I know of this side of an automobile,
and we can't afford that yet."

"I'm with you for a motor cycle," Joe had said. So one was
purchased, jointly.

It was on returning from a pleasant ride that our heroes had seen
the runaway with which we are immediately concerned. They were now
speeding after the maddened horse dragging the frail carriage,
hoping to get ahead of and stop the animal before it either
crashed into the frail barrier, and leaped into the ravine, or
upset the vehicle in trying to make the turn into the temporary
road.

"There he is!" suddenly cried Blake. The motor cycle, bearing the
two chums, had made the curve in the road successfully and was now
straightened up on a long, level stretch. And yet not so long,
either, for not more than a quarter of a mile ahead was another
turn, and then came the bridge.

"I see him!" answered Joe. "Can you make it?"