"Quick!" shrieked Tavia. "The girls may be under the cart!"

With strength gathered from every desperation Dorothy ran on.

She was beside the overturned wagon now, and without uttering a word
she crawled in through the upright sticks, down amid the dust and hay.

Three girls, so wound together as to look like one, lay on one side of
the wrecked vehicle.

"Dorothy!" gasped Rose-Mary. "Are you safe!"

"Yes, but you--Nita and Edna?" gasped Dorothy, pantingly.

"I think Nita has fainted," replied Rose-Mary. "But Edna is all right.
Where is Tavia?"

"Safe," answered Dorothy. "A strange man stopped the runaway. Tavia is
helping hold the horse. We must get the traces loose before we can
attend to Nita."

She made her way out of the overturned wagon. The traces were
unfastened and the horse was free, and the strange man was actually
astride the animal.

"Why," exclaimed Dorothy, "that horse will bolt again. You had best
make him fast somewhere!"

The stranger looked at her with the air of a Chesterfield.