Tom held on like grim death, though in imminent danger of being struck down and trampled upon.

No animal is quicker to recognize the hand of a master than a horse, and in less time than would be supposed possible the mad runaway was under control.
Then a gentle patting, a few soothing words, and he became more quiet, though still trembling in every nerve.
"I hope, Miss Warmore, you have not been injured." "Not in the least, thanks to your bravery," replied the young lady, displaying wonderful coolness.

"I have had a pretty rapid ride and a bad shock, but that is all." Tom had caught up the reins and held them in hand, while he stood at the side of the vehicle near the daughter of his employer.
"Perhaps, Miss Warmore, it will be safer for me to drive home with you.
The horse is nervous and liable to take fright again." "I can never thank you sufficiently for what you have already done," she said with emotion, moving to one side to make room for him.
"It was not difficult," he remarked lightly, stepping in beside her, and speaking gently to the animal, as he carefully turned him around to drive back.

"I had time to prepare myself, and he was easily controlled.

May I ask how it happened ?" He was sure he never saw one so beautiful as she.