Wally was up in a twinkling; but to mount Monarch was no such easy
matter, for the black horse was dancing with restlessness, and a low
growl of thunder far to the west evidently terrified him. Finally, with
a quick movement, Jim was in the saddle, whereat Monarch promptly
reared. He came down, and tried to get his head between his legs, but
the boy was too quick for him, and presently steadied him sufficiently
to move away in the wake of the others.
"Go on!" Jim shouted. "Don't lose a minute!"
They went down the river bank at a hand gallop, chafing now and then at
the necessity of striking away from the track to find gates or
slip-rails, as one paddock followed another. At first Monarch gave Jim
all he knew to hold him, and at the gates Wally and Norah had to do all
the work, for the black thoroughbred was too impatient to stand an
instant, and threatened to buck a score of times. Jim watched the sky
anxiously, very disgusted with himself. He knew they had no chance of
getting home dry, but at least they must be out of the timber before
the storm broke. It was coming very near now--the thunder was more
frequent, and jagged lightning tore rents in the inky curtain that
covered the sky. He took Monarch by the head, and sent him tearing
along the track, passing the boys--Wally riding hard on Nan, and Cecil
sitting back on Betty with a pale face.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123