Nina Coombs Pykare Read Online Free PDF Page B

other. “Let’s run the pony,” said Mortimer. “That would be great fun.”
    Jennifer shook her head. “We cannot do that today, Mortimer. Perhaps we will run Red Rust another time.”
      “I want to run now,” sulked Mortimer.     
      “Mortimer, a gentleman does not pout.”
      “I ain’t no gentleman,” cried Mortimer angrily. “You can’t make me be a gentleman.” And with that he grabbed the whip from its socket and, before Jennifer could move to stop him, lashed at the peacefully ambling pony.
      With a lurch that almost threw the girls to the floor of the cart, the pony bolted. Jennifer battled the pony with one hand while with the other she fought to get the whip away from the excited boy. The two of them bounced around on the seat. Finally she succeeded in wresting the whip from his grasp. Then she thrust him down on the floor of the cart and gave her full attention to the panic-ridden pony. Driving was not like riding, the pony had the bit between her teeth and nothing Jennifer could do seemed to help. From behind her came shrieks and strangled sobs, evidence at least, that the girls were still in the cart. It seemed that the only thing to do was to wait out the pony. Eventually she would tire and have to slow down.
    “Girls,” she called back to them. “Just hang on. We’ll be all right.”
    There was no answer, but the sobs subsided a little. At Jennifer’s feet Mortimer, his face white beneath his freckles, huddled abjectly.
    Suddenly there was the sound of pound-ing hooves. Something flashed by Jennifer. She had the merest glimpse of a man, she could see only a shock of fair hair as he leaned over and grabbed the pony’s reins. Then Red Rust was being slowed to a walk. In another moment the cart came to a standstill. For a few moments Jennifer was quite occupied. She pulled Mortimer up from the floor, dusted him off, and put him on the seat beside her. Then she turned to the girls. “Cassie, Cammie, are you all right?”
    The sobs diminished and gradually stopped. “Yes, yes, Miss Jennifer. We’re... we’re all right.” It was Cassie who answer-ed, her arm wrapped protectively around her little sister.
    Assured that the children were all well, Jennifer turned back to their benefactor. She found herself being regarded by a pair of grey eyes. “I... I must thank you, Sir.”
    The grey eyes twinkled and he smiled at her pleasantly. “I am glad to be of service.”
    Jennifer managed a smile of her own. “You were a great deal of service,” she said. “And I am afraid that you lost your beaver in the process.”
    The fair-haired man shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting his carefully tailored coat. “Beavers are more easily replaced than people. I hope your charges have come to no harm.”
    “I believe not. The children are merely frightened. The pony was doing quite well actually, but she is whip-shy and was startled.”
    Jennifer was suddenly very much aware that Mortimer was eyeing the stranger closely. She did not want to embarrass the boy by laying the runaway at his door.
    “You might have left the whip at home,” said the stranger. “This is not exactly a racing rig.”
    “Yes, I know,” replied Jennifer. “It was stupid of me not to think of that.”
    “Perhaps in the future you should ask a groom to drive for you,” suggested the stranger sternly.
      Jennifer felt herself bristling up a little. After all, the runaway had not been her fault. They had been getting along just fine until Mortimer grabbed the whip. But of course, this stranger had no way of knowing that.
    “I will keep that in mind,” she replied calmly.
    “Indeed, you should.  Inexperienced drivers should not go about endangering the lives of others.”
    Jennifer took this reprimand, too, in silence. Whoever this man was he evi-dently felt some annoyance with her.
    “It ain’t her fault,” cried Mortimer suddenly, rising to his feet to confront the stranger. “I done it. I wanted to