Madge Mortons Secret | Page 3

bent on a frolic. She heard Madge, saw her approaching, and, eager for a game, the pony kicked her heels together and trotted off across the field at a lively pace.
Madge was in despair. Every moment was precious. Why should Dixie choose this time of all others to refuse to come when she called to her? With a sudden thought Madge reached into her pocket. There, to her joy, she discovered an uneaten red apple. Madge held it out invitingly, standing perfectly still, as though she had no intention of stirring.
The pony threw back her head, neighed softly, then came trotting over to her mistress and appropriated the apple; but the next instant Madge's hand was in her mane, and she vaulted lightly on Dixie's slippery back, still keeping a tight hold.
"Nellie," she called, as she cantered past her cousin, "tell Aunt Sue she must forgive my riding bareback this time. I never will again. But I simply couldn't wait to put a saddle on Dixie. I might miss seeing Mrs. Curtis and Tom. No; they won't be shocked. They'll know it is only Madge!"
She rode swiftly away, sitting on the pony's uncovered back as easily as though she had been riding in the most comfortable of saddles.
It was three miles down the pike to the railway station nearest to the old Butler homestead. Madge knew that her friends had hired a carriage at the depot, and that her pony was capable of making twice the speed of any horse that they had been able to hire. But the day was warm. It was near Dixie's feeding time, and the animal saw no reason for making unnecessary haste. Madge coaxed and urged her pet to do her best. If she could only overtake her friends in their journey to the station! But the pony would not hurry. At last Madge stopped under a big maple tree, breaking off a switch. A few mild cuts from an unaccustomed whip made Dixie leap ahead.
The pike followed the railroad track for a mile. At the end of the mile, at a sharp curve, the track crossed the road. There was no watchman stationed at the crossing to give the signal, not even a red flag to tell of danger, only a great sign, printed in huge, black letters: "Look Out for the Locomotive. Stop. Look. Listen."
A hundred times Mr. Butler had warned Eleanor and Madge of this dangerous point in the road. Almost every day they crossed this track, driving back and forth from the village and they had always heeded Mr. Butler's warning.
To-day, just as reckless Madge neared this point in her journey, she saw a rickety carriage drive over this crossing about a hundred yards ahead of her.
"Wait, Mrs. Curtis! Stop, Tom!" cried Madge joyfully. Her blue eyes were shining, her cheeks were flushed. Madge's old-time heedlessness was upon her. She gave no thought to her promise to her uncle, to the chance of the oncoming trains. Madge-fashion, she saw only the goal ahead of her. "Go it, Dixie, darling!" she entreated, touching her pony sharply with her maple switch.
At the girl's first call Tom Curtis had reined in the old horse he was driving. His mother leaned out of the carriage to look back. "Madge!" she cried sharply.
At the same instant Madge plunged recklessly toward the railroad crossing. It was too late to rein in her pony. She and Dixie dared not take that risk. She saw a huge monster bearing down upon her. A shriek from the engine, a hoarse call from the engineer as he swept around the curve and saw the pretty figure on the track so close to his train. Madge felt the wave of heat from the locomotive. It seemed almost to scorch her, it was so near. She felt her fingers stiffen with fear; her hold on her pony's mane relaxed. She knew she was slipping off her horse's back and down on the track.
But she was country born and bred. She had ridden horseback all her life. In that moment of terror she flung herself forward, with both arms about her pony's neck. Dixie gave a single, frightened leap. She cleared the track just as the train raced by. Then Madge slid limply to the ground, while her pony stood by her shivering with fear.
"Don't scold me, and don't tell Uncle," she pleaded as Mrs. Curtis and Tom climbed hurriedly from the wagon and came back to her. "I know it was dreadful of me, and Uncle would never have forgiven me if I had killed myself."
At this characteristic speech both Madge and her friends laughed. Madge kissed Mrs. Curtis affectionately. Then, holding out her hand to Tom, she said, "Do you think I could let you get away without seeing you for