“Thanks to nothing!” he muttered. “I should have overtaken and stopped the skittish brute. If it hadn’t been for these smart youngsters on their confounded bicycles, the horses would not have been frightened.” “I think you are mistaken about that, sir,” said Frank, promptly. “When we came in sight of you both horses were frightened, and you were abusing your own mount. I think you are entirely responsible for this runaway, and, if I were this young lady, I should be cautious about riding out with you again.” “Insolent puppy,” grated the man. “How dare you talk to me like this! Why, I—I’ve a mind to——” “I wouldn’t try it, sir!” came sharply from Merriwell, as the fellow lifted his whip. “You touched me with that back in the woods, and I do not care to have you repeat it.” There was something in Frank’s manner that caused the man to lower the whip, boy in years though it was who faced him so boldly. The girl stepped forward quickly. “Stop, Cousin Stephen!” she cried. “This brave young man stopped Rex, and it may be that he saved my life. You should thank him instead of quarreling with him.” “Thank him for nothing!” growled the man. “It’s a wonder he didn’t pitch you out of the saddle and kill you when he caught the horse by the bit and yanked its head around.” Barney came riding up, and both horses pricked up their ears and regarded the bicycle with signs of mingled doubt and alarm. “Get off—get off from that, you fool!” cried the man. “What do you want to do—scare the blooming beasts into running away again? Don’t you know anything?” That was enough to start Barney’s temper. “Av ye’ll shtep down a minute, Oi’ll be afther showin’ yez a few things Oi know,” he flung back. Other horsemen were seen approaching swiftly. There were three in the party, and they headed straight toward the little group in the road. “Why, it is father and Kenneth!” exclaimed the girl, as she observed them. “And the other is—is Mr. Harden!” Something like a curse came from beneath the black mustache of the man she had called “cousin.” He glared at the approaching horsemen, and Frank heard him mutter: “What in Satan’s name is Harden doing here? I believe he saw the runaway! Hang the fellow! he’s always around!” Up came the horsemen, with a clatter of hoofs. The youngest of the party was not older than Frank, and he was a fine-looking youth, with dark eyes and curling hair. Next to him was a young man of twenty-two or three, with a blond mustache, and the third was a man of fifty, with an iron-gray beard. The youngest of the strangers leaped from the saddle, and was at the girl’s side in a moment, exclaiming: “Are you all right, sister mine? You are not harmed?” “Not a bit!” she half laughed; “but there is no telling what might have happened but for the brave young man there who stopped Rex. The horse had the bit in his teeth, and I could do nothing with him.”