Then the animal, with a leap, disappeared over the jagged edges of the planks.  The boys expected to see the carriage and the two occupants follow, but to their intense surprise, the vehicle swayed to one side, caught somehow on one of the king beams of the bridge and hung there.

“Come on!” cried Blake, increasing his speed; “we’ve got a chance of saving them yet!”

CHAPTER III

A SURPRISE

They reached—­only just in time—­the broken and collapsed carriage with its two front wheels mere twisted and splintered spokes.  The moving picture boys reached it, and with strong and capable hands pulled it back from the brink of the ravine, over which it hung.  In the depths below the horse lay, very still and quiet.

“Pull back!” directed Blake, but Joe needed no urging.  A slight difference—­inches only—­meant safety or death—­terrible injury at best, for the ravine was a hundred feet deep.  But those few inches were on the side of safety.

So evenly was the carriage poised, that only a little strength was needed to send it either way.  But Joe and Blake pulled it back on the unwrecked portion of the bridge approach.

The two men were still on the seat, but it had broken in the middle, pitching them toward the center, and they were wedged fast.  Hank Duryee, the town livery driver, did not seem to be hurt, though there was an anxious look on his face, and he was very pale, which was unusual for him.

As for the other man he seemed to have fainted.  His eyes were closed, but his swarthy complexion permitted little diminution in his color.  There was a slight cut on his head, from which had trickled a little blood that ran down to his white collar.

“Easy, boys!” cautioned Hank, and his voice rasped out in the quiet that succeeded the staccato noise from the motor cycle.  “Go easy now!  A touch’ll send us down,” and he gazed shudderingly into the depths below.

“We’ve got you,” Blake assured him, as he and Joe drew still farther back on the platform of the bridge what was left of the carriage.  As they did so one of the rear wheels collapsed, letting the seat down with a jerk.

“Oh!” gasped Hank, and a tremor seemed to go through the insensible frame of the other.

“It’s all right,” Blake assured the livery stable driver.  “You can’t fall far.”

“Not as far as down—­there,” and Hank pointed a trembling finger into the depths of the ravine.

“Can you get out—­can you walk?” asked Joe.

“Yes.  I’m more scared than hurt,” Hank made answer.

“How about him?” asked Blake, motioning to the other occupant of the carriage.

“Only a little cut on the head, where he banged, up against the top irons, I guess.  A little water will fetch him around.  My!  But that was a close shave!”

He staggered out on the broken bridge.  His legs were unsteady, through weakness and fear, but not from any injury.