not room for him to pass without going into the ditch, a proceeding
that would mean an upset. "Pull out of the way!" he yelled again.

But either the driver could not understand, or did not appreciate
the necessity. The mule stopped and reared up. The colored man
hurried to the head of the animal to quiet it.

"Whoa, Boomerang! Jest yo' stand still!" he said.

Tom, with a great effort, managed to twist the grip and finally shut
off the gasolene. But it was too late. He struck the darky with the
front wheel. Fortunately the youth had managed to somewhat reduce
his speed by a quick application of the brake, or the result might
have been serious. As it was, the colored man was gently lifted away
from the mule's head and tossed into the long grass in the ditch.
Tom, by a great effort, succeeded in maintaining his seat in the
saddle, and then, bringing the machine to a stop, he leaped off and
turned back.

The colored man was sitting up, looking dazed.

"Whoa, Boomerang!" he murmured. "Suffin's happened!"

But the mule, who had quieted down, only waggled his ears lazily,
and Tom, ready to laugh, now that he saw he had not committed
manslaughter, hurried to where the colored man was sitting.