She turned and ran.
Speeding over the field toward the fence at the other end, she could
hear the steady pounding of the mare's hoofs, though she did not dare
to glance over her shoulder. Her thoughts worked busily, trying to
figure out a way to climb over or under the fence, and she had a
lively fear of those terrible teeth nipping her as she tried to
climb. As the fence seemed to her strained vision to rise suddenly
from the ground and come to meet her, a way to safety opened.
Before she began to run she had unconsciously stooped to gather her
sweater from the ground where she had dropped it, and now she turned
and waved the garment frantically in the furious animal's face.
Bewildered and confused, the mare stopped, and, as Betty continued to
flap the sweater, she turned and dashed back to her colt. Weakly the
girl tumbled over the fence and the adventure was over.
"She thought you were going to hurt Pinto," said Mrs. Brill, when
she heard the story. "Goodness, I certainly am glad you had the
presence of mind to shake your sweater at old Phyllis. Wouldn't it
have been dreadful if she had bitten you!"
The next morning, Betty said good-by to the hospitable family who
had been so wonderfully kind to her, and, much refreshed after a
luxurious hot bath and a night's sleep in the pretty guest room, took
the trolley car into town with Mr.
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