dropping the reins; and while the others stood dazzled by the flash,
the terrified animals backed the vehicle with a crash against the
stable. Then they plunged madly forward toward the fence, with the
reins trailing along the ground. Flora had got in before her father,
and she was now helpless.

It was too late when Grant got up; Grierson and Edgar were too far
away, and the latter stood still, wondering with a thrill of horror
what the end would be; he did not think the horses saw the thin wire
fence, and the gap in it was narrow. If they struck a post in going
through, the vehicle would overturn. Then George, running furiously,
sprang at the horses' heads, and went down, still holding on. He was
dragged along a few yards, but the pace slackened, and Edgar ran
forward with Grierson behind him. For a few moments there was a savage
struggle, but they stopped and held the team, until Grant coolly
cleared the reins and flung them to his daughter.

"Stick tight while I get up, and then watch out," he said to the others.

He was seated in another moment, the girl quietly making room for him;
then, to Edgar's astonishment, he lashed the frantic horses with the
whip, and, plunging forward, they swept madly through the opening in
the fence, with the wagon jolting from rut to rut. A minute or two
afterward they had vanished into the thick obscurity that veiled the
waste of grass, and there was a dazzling flash and a stunning roll of
thunder. George, flushed and breathless, looked around with a soft
laugh.

"Grant has pretty good nerve," he said.