Trying to imagine himself in a desperate race, in order to excite himself to greater speed, Tom continued on. He was now even with the tail-board of the wagon, and slowly creeping up. The woman was all huddled up in a lump. "Grab the reins! Grab the reins!" shouted Tom. "Saw on the bit! That will stop him!" The occupant of the wagon turned to look at the lad. Tom saw that she was a handsome young lady. "Grab the reins!" he cried again. "Pull hard!" "I--I can't!" she answered frightenedly. "They have dropped down! Oh, do please stop the horse! I'm so--so frightened!" "I'll stop him!" declared the youth firmly, and he set his teeth hard. Then he saw the reason the fair driver could not grasp the lines. They had slipped over the dashboard and were trailing on the ground. The horse was slacking speed a bit now, for the pace was telling on his wind. Tom saw his opportunity, and with a sudden burst of energy was at the animal's head. Steering his wheel with one hand, with the other the lad made a grab for the reins near the bit. The horse swerved frightenedly to one side, but Tom swung in the same direction. He grasped the leather and then, with a kick, he freed himself from the bicycle, giving it a shove to one side. He was now clinging to the reins with both hands, and, being a muscular lad and no lightweight, his bulk told. "Sit--still!" panted our hero to the young woman, who had arisen to the seat. "I'll have him stopped in half a minute now!" It was in less time than that, for the horse, finding it impossible to shake off the grip of Tom, began to slow from a gallop to a trot, then to a canter, and finally to a slow walk. A moment later the horse had stopped, breathing heavily from his run. "There, there, now!" spoke Tom soothingly. "You're all right, old fellow. I hope you're not hurt"--this to the young lady--and Tom made a motion to raise his cap, only to find that it had blown off. "Oh, no--no; I'm more frightened than hurt." "It was all my fault," declared the young inventor. "I should not have swung into the road so suddenly. My bicycle alarmed your horse." "Oh, I fancy Dobbin is easily disturbed," admitted the fair driver. "I can't thank you enough for stopping him. You saved me from a bad accident." "It was the least I could do. Are you all right now?" and he handed up the dangling reins. "I think Dobbin, as you call him, has had enough of running," went on Tom, for the horse was now quiet. "I hope so. Yes, I am all right. I trust your wheel is not damaged. If it is, my father, Mr. Amos Nestor, of Mansburg, will gladly pay for its repair."