He knew perfectly well that Miriam was not strong enough to hold in the black team, once the horses got the upper hand; but he hoped one of the boys would take the reins if they showed any symptoms of running away.
The early twilight was just falling when the Gray house party came to a narrow, rickety old bridge spanning the bed of a creek.

Here they stopped the horses for a time, while Grace and Hippy gathered some branches of evergreen growing on the edge of a wood, just over the bridge.
Suddenly the stillness was broken by the sound of bells ringing so violently that it seemed as if all Bedlam had broken loose.

Around a curve and down the road in front of them loomed Miriam's blacks, making straight for the other group.

They were going like the wind, and the empty sleigh, lying on its side, was clattering behind them.
"Jump, girls!" cried Tom, while with the other boys he started to cross the bridge to intercept the horses.
If Grace had paused to reflect she might never have attempted accomplishing the daring deed that suggested itself to her.

Quickly snatching off her scarlet cape, she dashed into the middle of the road, waving it before her.