Madge Mortons Secret | Page 3

this she was thinking as she raced across
the fields. She had missed Mrs. Curtis more than she could say, and her
sole desire was to see the woman who had done so much to add to their
pleasure on their previous trip.
In a nearby meadow Dixie, Madge's fat black pony, was lazily eating
grass. Her mistress called to her coaxingly as she ran toward the
enclosure. But the pony was 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