A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill Part 2

Miss Lady greeted him with almost boyish frankness, but there was an unmistakable flush under the smooth tan of her cheek that did not escape the vigilant eye of the Colonel.

"Here you are, Dad! here you are, Noah!" she said, tossing a small package to each; "sandwiches and hard boiled eggs for two."

"Put the salt in for the eggs?" asked the Colonel, having had experience with her lunches.

"I believe I did. Open yours and see, Noah. Say, Daddy darling!" she swooped down upon him from the rear, slipping an arm about his neck as he knelt on the porch to collect his hooks and lines, "you are going to let me ride Prince, just this once, aren't you?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Colonel leaned back upon his knees and glared at Morley.]

The Colonel gasped, partly from strangulation, and partly from amazement.

"Prince!" he cried. "Well, I reckon not! That colt's hardly broken to the saddle. He threw Jimpson last week."

"Well, I'm not Jimpson. Please, Daddy, just this once."

"If that's the little beast Wick was telling me about," said Morley, "we are certainly not going to trust you on him."

The Colonel leaned back upon his knees where he knelt on the porch, and glared at Morley.

"Who do you mean by we?"

"The conservative party of which I, for once, am a member. From all I can hear of that colt, no girl could handle him."

"You are absolutely mistaken, sir! I taught my daughter to straddle a horse before I taught her to walk. Handle him? Of course she can handle him! Jimpson!" he roared in conclusion, "put the side-saddle on Prince!"

CHAPTER II

The Cane Run Road lay straight ahead, now white under the full light of the sun, now dappled with tiny dancing shadows from the interlaced twigs overhead, new clothed in their garb of green. White and purple violets peeped from the fence corners, and overhead the birds made busy in the branches.

Two young people, flushed and smiling, drew rein and looked at each other. In the eyes of each was a challenge.

"I'll race you to the mill!" cried Miss Lady, tugging at her bridle.

"Don't start 'til I give the word. Now, go!"

Off through the smiling, sunlit fields they dashed, too impetuous and young, and gloriously free, to waste a thought on that inexorable wheel of life, upon which sooner or later the most irresponsible must break their wings. On and on they went, neck to neck, the gallop breaking into a run. Down past the blacksmith's, past the old mill which was to have been the goal, through the long covered bridge, over the hill and out again on the level road where they still kept abreast.

And close upon them, with head up and mane flying, came another steed, free, irresponsible, unbridled, invisible. It was Romance, pounding in their wake; Romance, whose hoof beats made their pulses dance in unison, whose breath upon their cheeks made them laugh for joy in the face of the wind.

They were almost to the city now, having reached that slovenly suburb that had given its plebeian name to the once aristocratic neighborhood.

Clouds of dust whirled in their wake, and stones flew right and left under the horses' hoofs; men in carts pulled their teams to the side of the road to let the mad pair pa.s.s; dogs dashed from dark doorways, barking furiously.

Suddenly, just as they neared the railroad junction, the sharp whistle of an engine sent Prince plunging into the air. Donald rose in his stirrups and made a frantic clutch at the horse's head, but even as he missed it, he heard the clanging signal for an approaching train and saw the gates immediately in front of them descending. Instantly he flung himself out of the saddle, and sprang for Prince's head. The horse, almost under the nose of the engine, reared frantically, swerved, then came to a trembling stand, as Miss Lady deftly loosened her skirt from the pommel, and swung herself to the ground.

In a second Don was beside her.

"Are you hurt?" he cried, catching her arm with his free hand and looking anxiously into her face.

"Not a bit. Who won?" she asked with a little catch in her voice.

"Lord! You were plucky! If anything had happened to you!" his hand tightened on her wrist, and he drew in his breath sharply.

The afternoon freight came lumbering by, and they stood close together with the hot breath of the engine in their faces. Her hair blew across his face and he could feel her body trembling against his shoulder.

Neither of them seemed to be aware of the fact that he still held her hand, and that the horses were tugging at their respective bridles.

As the train thundered past and the gates lifted, Miss Lady turned quickly and began to pin up her loosened hair.

"Pretty narrow shave, Miss," commented a redheaded man with a flag, hurrying across the track, and joining an old apple-woman and two small boys who const.i.tuted an interested audience.

"I seen you a-coming an' would 'a' let you through, only I'm a-subst.i.tutin' on this job, and wasn't in fer takin' no extry risks."

"Here, boy!" cried Donald, "hold my horse. The girth's broken; I'll have to make another hole in the strap."

The word "boy" being a generic term was promptly appropriated by each of the youngsters as applying to himself, and a fierce scramble ensued in which the larger was victorious.

"Skeeter's it," announced the flagman, a self-const.i.tuted umpire. "Git out 'er the way there, Chick, and give the gent a chanct to see what he's a-doin'."

Chick, a large-headed, small-bodied goblin of a boy, made an unintelligible, guttural sound in his throat and remained where he was, evidently considering it of paramount importance that _he_ should see what the gentleman was doing.

It was with some difficulty that the new hole in the strap was made, and to secure the buckle more firmly Don gave it several sharp raps with the handle of his riding whip. At the last one the silver k.n.o.b flew from the handle and rolled to the roadside.

In an instant the small boys were after it, the older having deserted his post without compunction, when a question of booty was involved.

They grappled together in the dust of the road, long before they reached the prize, and with arms and legs entwined rolled toward it.

Chick was underneath when they arrived, but he loosened his clutch of Skeeter's throat, and darted forth a small, grimy hand that closed upon the treasure. In an instant Skeeter seized upon the clenched fist, and was wrenching it open, when a third party entered the fray.

"The little one got it!" cried Miss Lady indignantly; "he got it first!

Give it to him this minute!"

"I be d.a.m.ned if I do!" shouted Skeeter, roused to fury by the combat.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned if you don't," said Miss Lady, equally determined.

The skirmish was fierce but short, and by the time Don got to them, Miss Lady had restored the spoils to the lawful victor, and was a.s.sisting the vanquished foe to wipe the dust from his eyes.

"Well, partner," said Donald to Chick, "what have you got to say to the young lady for taking your part?"

"He ain't got nothin' to say," said Skeeter glibly. "He's dumb. n.o.body but me can't understand him. He says thank you, ma'am."

Chick having uttered no sound, it was evident that Skeeter depended upon telepathy.

"He's a ash-barrel baby," went on Skeeter, eager to impart information; "he ain't got no real folks, and he's been to the Juvenile Court twict; onct for hopping freights and onct fer me and him smas.h.i.+n' winders."

All eyes were turned upon the hero, who immediately became absorbed in his whip-handle. He was small, and exceedingly thin, and exceedingly dirty. The most conspicuous things about him were his large, wistful eyes, and his broad smile that showed where his teeth were going to be.

Across his narrow chest a ragged elbowless coat was. .h.i.tched together by one b.u.t.ton, while a pair of bare, spindling legs dwindled away respectively into a high black shoe, and a low-cut tan one, both of which were well ventilated at the heels.