HORTENSE RUNS WILD
When the Manley boys came down to breakfast the next morning they found
their mother waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. Her soft blue
eyes, her blond hair, with never a streak of gray in it, her pretty,
unlined face, would make one doubt that she could have two such large
boys as Teddy and Roy for sons.
“Good morning, night-hawks,” she gaily greeted and kissed them. “I
suppose I’m not to know what kept you out until all hours? Last evening
you said hello and good-night to me. No, never mind. We have corn bread
and bacon for breakfast. Mrs. Moore made it especially for you. Did
your father tell you where you were going to-day?”
“You mean to the 8 X 8 with Belle?” Teddy asked.
“That’s right. I hope Curly and Nell are there.”
“Why? Have they gone back to the city?” Roy opened his eyes wide.
“No, Roy, they haven’t,” Mrs. Manley laughed. “You rose to the bait
splendidly, however. I’m sure you’ll see them.”
“Don’t worry about that, Mom,” a girl’s voice called from the next
room. “Think they’d visit the 8 X 8 without seeing Nell and Ethel?”
“Come out here, Miss Manley, and say that,” Teddy laughed, blushing.
“It’s a good thing a wall is between us.”
“Oh, is it?” Belle Ada, her face wreathed in a grin, came to the door.
“Mother, protect me! Now how about it, Mr. Smarty?”
“Get to the left of her, Teddy,” Roy said in a loud whisper. “I’ll take
the other side. Now!”
“Let go my hair! Moth-er! They’re spoiling my--my coiffure!”
“Your what?” Teddy demanded, halted in his tracks. “Say that again!”
“Coiffure!”
“Where’s that book?” Roy shouted, making a dive into the room Belle had
just left. He reappeared in a moment, holding a volume in his hands.
“Look at this, Teddy! ‘Lady Gwendemere’s Secret!’ Oh, boy! So that’s
where you get your big words from, sister mine? Let’s see--” He opened
the book. “There was a moment of silence as Lord Morleigh raised his
glass. Then, in a voice fraught with passion, he cried: ‘To the fairest
woman in the world! A jewel incomparable! May she--’”
“Give me that book, Roy Manley!” Belle, her face aflame, snatched it
from him. “Don’t you go snooping into my affairs! I guess I can read
what books I want to.”
“Within limits, my dear,” Mrs. Manley corrected, and smiled. “It
wouldn’t do for you to feed on too much silly fiction, you know.
Upstairs I have a volume containing essays by famous writers.” Mrs.
Manley had been a school teacher before her marriage. “Suppose you get
that and read it for a while?”
“Yes, Mother,” Belle said dutifully, and started for the stairs. Then,
with an expressive grimace, she shook her fist at Roy. “I’ll fix you
for that, Roy Manley!” she threatened in a vibrant whisper. “You’ll see!”
“Better get some of that corn bread, quick,” Teddy laughed, as he
started toward the breakfast room. “You’ll need it, when Belle has
decided what form her revenge will take!”
The meal was soon concluded, and the boys made ready for their trip.
They were to go in one of the ranch cars, although Belle wanted to ride
her pony. But due to the fact that she would have to take a bag with
her, Mr. Manley said the auto would be more convenient. Perhaps he
did not care to have his daughter take the long ride to the 8 X 8 with
wolves in the vicinity.
“You can borrow a pony from Mr. Ball,” he told her. “The weather looks
a bit uncertain, an’ I don’t want you to get caught in a storm. Yes, I
think you’d better take the car.”
By nine o’clock the young folks were on the road. Life on a ranch
begins at seven in the morning, and to a cowboy anything between nine
and twelve is the “forenoon.”
To all outward appearances, Belle had forgotten the debt she owed
Roy. But Teddy noticed her staring frequently at his brother with a
speculative look in her eye.
“She’ll make him pay somehow,” he chuckled to himself. “I hope she
doesn’t include me in her plan of vengeance.”
They reached the 8 X 8 a little after twelve. They were compelled to
drive slowly on account of the condition of the roads, and arrived at
the Peter Ball ranch later than they had expected. Nell Willis and
Ethel, or “Curly,” Carew, who had been informed of their coming, were
sitting on the porch as they drove up. These two girls were nieces of
Peter Ball. Their home was in New York, and they had been staying with
their uncle while their parents were traveling in Europe.
“Greetings, voyagers!” Ethel called out, and ran to meet them. “How’s
the sacred chariot running?”
“Great!” Teddy answered. “Hitting on all thirteen. Hello, Nell--here’s
Roy.”
“I see him,” Nell laughed. “Belle, these brothers of yours haven’t
changed much, have they?”
“Well--” Belle considered. “Teddy is about the same. But Roy, you see,
he’s--Oh, excuse me, Roy, I almost forgot. It nearly slipped out.”
“What’s all this?” Ethel answered curiously. “Nell, here’s something we
must look into!”
“It’s nothing. She’s only kidding,” Roy declared, his face red. “She’s
getting back at me for finding her book at home this morning.”
“Finding my book at home--that’s right,” Belle said demurely. “Come,
boys, take your little sister’s bag into the house. What are you
blushing about, Roy?”
“I’m not blushing,” Roy retorted furiously, and quite inaccurately.
“Don’t pay any attention to her, Nell.”
“But, Roy, there’s really no need of your getting flustered,” Belle
said seriously, looking up into his face. “I didn’t tell--what I wasn’t
supposed to--did I?” she finished in a thrilling whisper.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roy said, turning his head
away. “Hand me that bag, will you, Teddy?”
“Sure,” Teddy answered, grinning. “Methinks your sins are finding you
out, young man!”
“But what _is_ all this about?” Ethel demanded. “Roy, have you been up
to tricks?”
“No, I haven’t! I told you Belle is only getting even! All right, go
ahead, have your fun. Some day you’ll--” he was walking rapidly up the
steps with the bag and the rest of the sentence was lost.
“I guess we’re square now,” said Belle, chuckling gleefully. “Poor Roy!
He gets excited so easily! Teddy, you go and console him. He’ll set
fire to the house with that face of his.”
A hail from across the path caused Teddy to abandon his intention of
following Roy into the house. Bug Eye, grinning from ear to ear, stood
waving at him.
Bug Eye had always been a character and was getting more and more so
every day. Ordinarily he was a cow puncher; but he drove Mr. Ball’s
auto and spent all of his odd hours in inventing things or in improving
his mind--so he said.
“Go see what he wants,” Nell suggested. “He’s been pestering us for two
days wanting to know just when you were coming over. I think he has
something he wants to show you.”
Teddy answered the call, and walked over to the young puncher just as
Roy came down the steps.
“Howdy, Bug Eye!” Roy shouted, as he saw his friend. “What’s the news?”
“Nothing much,” Bug Eye answered, and, stepping forward, he grasped a
hand of each of the boys. “Long time since you visited us, ain’t it?”
“Been kind of busy. Near round-up time, you know,” Teddy replied. “But
what happened to you? Every day I expected to see that old flivver of
yours come rolling in. Where have you been?”
“Workin’,” Bug Eye said mysteriously. “On a new invention.”
Teddy looked significantly at Roy.
“What sort of an invention, Bug Eye--perpetual motion?”
“Nope--tain’t that. Though some day I’m gonna work on that. This here
is a machine for cuttin’ grass all by itself!”
“Cutting grass!” Roy exploded. “But where under the sun is any grass
you can cut around here? Not counting on--”
“It ain’t fer use here,” Bug Eye interrupted pompously. “This is for
importation. You wait here. I’ll show you.”
While Teddy and Roy stood in mute expectation, Bug Eye disappeared
within the bunkhouse, to reappear in a moment dragging something heavy
behind him.
“Give us a hand,” he panted. “I had it hid behind the door. Golly,
she’s some heavy! Pull, now! Here she comes! Look out!”
In obedience to a strong tug, a strange and fearsome contraption rolled
out of the doorway, rumbling as it came. Four wheels were mounted on
what had once been the square top of a table. Set in the center of
the table top was a gasoline motor from a flivver. This motor had two
flywheels, each with a belt, one to drive the machine along the ground
by turning the rear wheels, and one to cause a series of long knives
beneath the table top to revolve.
“There she is!” Bug Eye said proudly. “The wonder of the age! What do
you think of her?”
“Well,” Roy began, looking at “her” dubiously, “I can’t tell just yet.
Will it grind coffee?”
“Can’t say--never tried her out for that,” Bug Eye replied seriously.
Then his face brightened. “But I’ll bet she would, at that! Now I’ll
show you how she works. Let’s see--we’ll run her across the yard an’
back for a starter.”
“Where do you sit to drive it?” Teddy inquired curiously.
“Who, me? I don’t sit no place! That’s the beauty of it--she drives
herself! Goes along, cuttin’ the grass, then when she gets to the end
of the yard she turns an’ comes back. Wish we had some grass to cut,
but you’ll get the general idea. First I gotta prime ’er.”
Holding an oil can in his hand, he bent over the motor.
“What’s that you have there?” Teddy asked.
“Gas. She runs on kerosene the rest of the time. Economical, hey?”
He squirted gasoline liberally over the motor, and enough of it
evidently reached the petcocks, for in a moment he laid the can aside
and busied himself with the numerous levers set in the side of the
machine.
“Now she’s ready!” he proclaimed, straightening. “Just stand aside, for
we don’t want no accidents to happen. When Hortense gets goin’ she just
naturally mows down everything within reach.”
“That’s our cue to move,” Roy muttered. “All right, Bug Eye, let ’er
rip!”
The puncher seized the larger flywheel and swung it over. The motor
coughed twice, then was silent. Once more he turned the wheel.
The machine awoke with a sullen roar. Bug Eye had not thought to put a
muffler on it, and the sounds of its resurrection could be heard for at
least a mile. Then, slowly, ponderously, it started to move.
“Yip-ee! Watch her go! Step on it, Hortense! Show ’em what yo’re made
of!”
The machine seemed to take Bug Eye at his word. There was a sudden
shriek of metal upon metal, and some part of the contraption went
sailing into the air. As though Hortense had gotten rid of something
that had been bothering her for years, she took a new lease on life
with this eruption. Her wheels--all of them--spun rapidly around. The
knives underneath whirred and flashed. Like a being with a single,
definite purpose in view, she leaped across the yard.
“Her reverse is busted!” Bug Eye yelled. “She won’t turn now! Snakes, I
can’t stop her! Watch out!”
With a metallic bellow, Hortense continued on her wild career.
Suddenly, midway on her journey, her front wheels turned and she swung
to the left. As she plunged along Teddy gave a cry.
Hortense was headed directly for Mrs. Ball’s favorite bed of lilies!