"Jump--crawl out--quick, now!" shouted Bart breathlessly to the occupant
of the cab.

The colonel had been bouncing around, groaning and yelling ever since he
had awakened to a realization of his desperate plight.

"Wait a minute!" he puffed. "Gently! Wait till I get out. Then you can
go on," was his remarkable 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.