Stone. Grace could hardly
refrain from crying out that she was on that same horse.
"I have always wondered who that girl was," Mr. Stone went on, "and
some day I mean to go back to the scene of the accident, and see if I
can find out. I have an idea she blames us for her horse running away.
But it was an accident, pure and simple; wasn't it, Bob?"
"It certainly was. You see it was this way," he explained, and Grace
felt sure they would ask her why she was so pale, for the blood had
left her cheeks on hearing that the young men were really those she
had suspected. "Harry, here, and myself," went on Mr. Kennedy, "had
been out for a little run, to transact some business. We were on a
country road, and a storm was coming up. We put on speed, because we
did not want to get wet, and I had to be at a telegraph office at a
certain time to complete a deal by wire.
"Just ahead of us was a girl on a white horse. The animal seemed
frightened at the storm, and just as we came racing past our car
struck a stone, and was jolted right over toward the animal. I am not
sure but what we hit it. Anyhow the horse bolted.
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