the Wizard clung fast to the seat and yelled “Whoa!” at the top of his voice.
“I—I’m ‘fraid he’s—he’s running away!” gasped Dorothy.
“I KNOW he is,” said Zeb; “but no bear can catch him if he keeps up that gait—and the harness or the buggy don’t break.”
Jim did not make a mile a minute; but almost before they were aware of it he drew up at the foot of the mountain, so suddenly that the Wizard and Zeb both sailed over the dashboard and landed in the soft grass—where they rolled over several times before they stopped. Dorothy nearly went with them, but she was holding fast to the iron rail of the seat, and that saved her. She squeezed the kitten, though, until it screeched; and then the old cab-horse made several curious sounds that led the little girl to suspect he was laughing at them all.
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