The morning following the girls’ arrival, Mr. Willing and Mr. Ashton, who was feeling much better, were seated with the girls around the breakfast table.

“Mabel and I are going to town this morning,” said Shirley.

“All right,” said Mr. Willing. “I’ll tell Frank to hitch up. What time will you be ready?”

“Ten o’clock will be early enough, I reckon,” said Shirley. “We probably won’t be home until late this afternoon.”

It was the first time the girls had been in the little town of Paris, except for a few minutes on their way back from Illinois, since school had closed for the summer vacation. Therefore, they called on some of their girl friends, and spent a very pleasant day.

They did some shopping and it was after five o’clock when they started for home.

“It looks as though there was going to be a storm,” said the livery-stable keeper, where they had left their horse.

Mabel glanced at the sky. Huge clouds were gathering in the west.

“They look like wind clouds,” said Mabel.

“You had better wait,” said the stableman. “You will be caught in the storm.”

“Oh, I think we’ll make it,” said Shirley. “Besides, Dad expects us in time for supper.”

“Telephone him,” said the man.

“No,” said Shirley, “we’ll run the risk.”

“Well, all right,” was the reply, “but you had better hurry.”

Shirley shook out the reins, and touched the horse lightly with her whip. The animal started off at a rapid trot.

It was a good three miles home, and Mabel, glancing once more at the sky, urged Shirley to hurry.

“We’ll get a good soaking,” she said.

“It won’t hurt us any,” said Shirley. “I’m sure I won’t melt, and I don’t think you will.”

They continued up Main Street, and finally reached the outskirts of the town.

“Guess we can go a little faster now,” said Shirley, and touched the horse with her whip.

At that moment there came a brilliant flash of lightning, followed by a terrific peal of thunder. The horse shied and broke into a gallop.

Shirley tightened her hold on the reins, and, with an effort, succeeded in pulling him down to a trot again.

“Well, here’s where we turn off, anyhow,” said Shirley. “If the rain will hold off for twenty minutes we will be all right.”

“And then, just as they turned onto the Bethlehem pike, darkness enveloped them, shutting out the sight of the road ahead. It descended so suddenly and unexpectedly that Mabel cried out in alarm.

“Don’t be frightened,” said Shirley in a low voice. “I know the road and can drive just as well in the dark.”

Nevertheless she was forced to check the horse slightly, and this required great effort, for the animal, badly frightened, was trying to bolt.

Suddenly Shirley’s hat went flying from her head, as the wind was blowing a gale. Mabel, her hands free, caught hers as it left her head.

“Mine’s gone,” cried Shirley.

“Shall we stop and get it?” asked Mabel, raising her voice to make herself heard above the roaring wind.

“I should say not,” was the reply. “We’ll get home just as quick as we can.”

Their horse, at this moment, was puffing up a steep hill. The wind was blowing fiercely. The girls felt a few drops of rain upon their faces.

And then, above the roaring of the wind, came another sound—the sound of a horse coming rapidly toward them. Mabel heard it first, and called to Shirley. Shirley pulled as far to the right as she felt was safe, being absolutely unable to see in the darkness.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the scene before them, and Mabel uttered an involuntary cry of fear.

Not fifty yards away, and bearing down on them, came a galloping horse. The one flash had permitted the girls to see that he was running wild. There was no one in the buggy.

Shirley pulled desperately upon the right rein, turning her horse sharply from the road. Her action undoubtedly saved them from serious injury, but it was not quick enough to entirely avert disaster.

There was a sudden crash, and both girls felt the left side of the buggy sink and then crash to the ground. The wheel of the other and heavier vehicle had smashed the two left-hand wheels and carried them away. The other buggy had been damaged in the same manner, but the frightened horse did not pause in his wild race, and dashed on down the road, dragging the broken buggy after him. In spite of the accident, Shirley maintained a firm grip on the reins, and when the left side of the buggy went down to the ground she managed to bring her horse to a stop almost at once.

But Mabel was not so fortunate. When the buggy had collapsed she was thrown out, and badly shaken when she came in contact with the hard ground.

She pulled herself to her feet dizzily and stood still. Some distance down the road she could hear the bumping of Shirley’s buggy, and she heard it finally come to a stop. She could not see a foot in front of her, but started slowly in the direction she knew Shirley must be.

As soon as the horse stopped, Shirley called to Mabel not to be frightened. Receiving no response, she felt along the seat beside her. Mabel was not there.

Jumping quickly from the damaged buggy, unmindful of the horse, Shirley turned and hurried in the direction from which she had come. Twice she called and received no response. The third time she thought she heard Mabel.

“Here I am,” screamed Mabel, trying to make herself heard above the howling wind.

A moment later they found each other.

“Are you much hurt?” Shirley asked her friend anxiously.

“No,” said Mabel. “I am pretty well shaken up, but I am all right. And you?”

“Perfectly safe,” replied Shirley. “The question now is what to do.”

Still the rain held off, only a few drops falling occasionally but the wind blew violently.

“We had better climb up on Cato and ride home that way,” said Mabel. (Cato was their horse.)

“A good idea,” spoke Shirley. “Come!”

She led the way to where she thought Cato would be standing, but she could not find him.

“Strange,” she told herself. “I am sure it was here that I stopped him.”

Just then there came another flash of lightning, and far down the road, they saw Cato and the broken buggy making rapidly for home.

In spite of the serious situation, Shirley laughed.

“What do you think of that?” she exclaimed. “Cato has run away and left us. I’ll speak to him about it when we get home.”

“Well, we must not stand here,” said Mabel impatiently. “We can walk home in half an hour. Let’s start.”

“I suppose that is the best way,” said Shirley.

They started down the road, walking rapidly.

And now it began to rain. Lightning flashed and terrific peals of thunder reverberated through the air. By no means of timid dispositions, both girls, nevertheless, became nervous.

“Hadn’t we better stop under one of these trees?” asked Mabel.

“No,” Shirley decided instantly. “I have heard it is dangerous in an electric storm. Lightning may strike the tree. We are safer in the middle of the pike, even if we do get soaking wet.”

The rain fell in torrents, and both girls by this time were drenched to the skin.

They hurried down a steep declivity in the road. There was one more hill to climb, and then the long walk from the pike to the house.

They reached the top of the hill ten minutes later and turned in at the first gate.

“I thought Cato would be here,” said Shirley.

But there was no sign of horse or buggy.

The two girls hurried down the road, now muddy from the downpour. It was hard walking, and they made slow progress.

“I’ll bet the creek has overflowed,” said Shirley. “If so, we will wade part of the way.”

“I am very much afraid you are right,” said Mabel.

Now they came to the second gate, and passed through it. They descended the little hill toward the creek slowly, for there was no telling how high the water might be.

It was good they had been so cautious. They had hardly walked ten paces when Shirley drew back suddenly. She had come upon water.

“My gracious,” she exclaimed. “I had no idea the water could rise so high in such a short time.”

“I doubt if we can get across,” said Mabel.

Shirley took Mabel by the hand.

“We’ll try,” she said briefly.

Very slowly they continued their way.

The water rose to their shoe tops, then to their knees, and still they went on.

“It can’t be much deeper,” said Mabel.

“I don’t know,” said Shirley. “I have never seen it this high, but I have heard Dad say that forty years ago it rose until it was impossible to cross for two days.”

The water had now reached their waists, and was still rising. Fortunately there was no current to speak of, so there was little danger so long as they kept their heads above water.

But when the water reached their armpits and continued to rise, Shirley turned back.

“It’s no use,” she said.