fears.

It was not _toward_ the rapidly advancing horse that the boy ran, but in
exactly the opposite direction, as though he were being chased. With the
wagon flinging about from side to side, and hindering the progress of the
runaway to some extent, Paul believed that he could almost hold his own
in the race.

Little by little he meant to let the horse overtake him. Then, at just
the right second his chance would come to jump at the animal's head,
seize upon the lines close to the bit, and throw his entire weight upon
them.

He knew that it called for good judgment, since the slightest mistake
would be apt to cost him dear. To be thrown under the iron-shod hoofs of
the galloping animal might mean making him a cripple for the rest of his
life.

Even that possibility did not daunt Paul. He only saw the frightened face
of the little chap who so valorously clung to the lines, and shouted
shrilly at the top of his childish voice, as though expecting the usually
tractable horse to mind.

A human life in peril--that was one of the cardinal points that must call
for action on the part of a true Boy Scout. He might refuse to engage in
a sanguinary battle with some rival who had dared him to a fight; but
under no conditions must he hold back when the chance offered to do a
good deed.

Now the horse was just behind him, and still galloping furiously. If