"Oh, Tom!" shrieked Ruth, and seized the boy's arm. The bay horse was
just plunging ahead, eager to be off for the stable and his manger. The
high cart was whirled through the gateway as the first explosion came!
Pop,pop,pop! sputter--BANG!
It seemed as though the horse leaped more than his own length, and
yanked all four wheels of the cart off the ground. There was a chorus of
screams in the Caslons' dooryard, but after that first cry, Ruth kept
silent.
The rockets shot out of the box amidships with a shower of sparks. The
Roman candles sprayed their varied colored balls--dimmed now by
daylight--all about the cart.
Tom hung to the lines desperately, but the scared horse had taken the
bit in his teeth and was galloping up the road toward Sunrise Farm,
quite out of hand.
After that first grab at Tom's arm, Ruth did not interfere with him. She
turned about, knelt on the seat-cushion, and, one after the other, swept
the twins across the sputtering, shooting bunch of fireworks, and into
the space between her and Tom and the dashboard.
Providentially the shooting rockets headed into the air, and to the
rear. As the big horse dashed up the hill, swinging the light vehicle
from side to side behind him, there was left behind a trail of smoke and
fire that (had it been night-time) would have been a brilliant
spectacle.
Mr. Caslon and the orphans started after the amazing thing tearing up
the road--but to no purpose. Nothing could be done to stop the explosion
now. The sparks flew all about. Although Mr. Caslon had bought a wealth
of small rockets, candles, mines, flower-pots, and the like, never had
so many pieces been discharged in so short a time!
It was sputter, sputter, bang, bang, the cart vomiting flame and smoke,
while the horse became a perfectly frenzied creature, urged on by the
noise behind him. Tom could only cling to the reins, Ruth clung to the
twins, and all by good providence were saved from an overturn.
All the time--and, of course, the half-mile or more from Caslons' to the
entrance to the Steele estate, was covered in a very few moments--all the
time Ruth was praying that the fire-crackers Tom had bought and hidden
under the front seat would not be ignited.
The reports of the rockets, and the like, became desultory. Some set
pieces and triangles went off with the hissing of snakes. Was the
explosion over?
So it seemed, and the maddened horse turned in at the gateway. The cart
went in on two wheels, but it did not overturn.
The race had begun to tell on the bay. He was covered with foam and his
pace was slackening. Perhaps the peril was over--Ruth drew a long breath
for the first time since the horse had made its initial jump.
And then--with startling suddenness--there was a sputter and bang! Off
went the firecrackers, package after package. A spark had burned through
the paper wrapper and soon there was such a popping under that front
seat as shamed the former explosions!
Had the horse been able to run any faster, undoubtedly he would have
done so; but as the cart went tearing up the drive toward the front of
the big house, the display of fireworks, etc., behind the front seat,
and the display of alarm on the part of the four on the seat, advertised
to all beholders that the occasion was not, to say the least, a common
one.
The cart itself was scorched and was afire in places, the sputtering of
the fire-crackers continued while the horse tore up the hill. Tom had
bought a generous supply and it took some time for them all to explode.
Fortunately the front drop of the seat was a solid panel of deal, or
Ruth's skirt might have caught on fire--or perhaps the legs of the twins
would have been burned.
As for the two little fellows, they never even squealed! Their eyes
shone, they had lost their caps in the back of the cart, their short
curls blew out straight in the wind, and their cheeks glowed. When the
runaway appeared over the crest of the hill and the crowd at Sunrise
Farm beheld them, it was evident that Willie and Dickie were enjoying
themselves to the full!
Poor Tom, on whose young shoulders the responsibility of the whole
affair rested, was braced back, with his feet against the footboard, the
lines wrapped around his wrists, and holding the maddened horse in to
the best of his ability.
Bobbins on one side, and Ralph Tingley on the other, ran into the
roadway and caught the runaway by the bridle. The bay was, perhaps,
quite willing to halt by this time. Mr. Steele ran out, and his first
exclamation was:
"My goodness, Tom Cameron! you've finished that horse!"
"I hope not, sir," panted Tom, rather pale. "But I thought he'd finish
us before he got through."
By this time the explosions had ceased. Everything of an explosive
nature--saving the twins themselves--in the cart seemed to have gone off.
And now Willie ejaculated:
"Gee! I never rode so fast before. Wasn't it great, Dickie?"
"Yep," agreed Master Dickie, with rather more emphasis than usual.
Sister Sadie appeared from the rear premises, vastly excited, too, but
when she lifted the twins down and found not a scratch upon them, she
turned to Ruth with a delighted face.
"You took care of them just like you loved 'em, Miss," she whispered, as
Ruth tumbled out of the cart, too, into her arms. "Oh, dear! don't you
dare get sick--you ain't hurt, are you?"
"No, no!" exclaimed Ruth, having hard work to crowd back the tears. "But
I'm almost scared to death. That--that young one!" and she grabbed at
Dickie. "What did you drop that punk into the fireworks for?"
"Huh?" questioned the imperturbable Dickie.
"Why didn't you throw that lighted punk away?" and Ruth was tempted to
shake the little rascal.
But instantly the voluble Willie shouldered his way to the front. "Gee,
Miss! he thought you wanted him to drop it right there. You said so.
An'--an'---- Well, he didn't know the things in the box would go off of
themselves. Did you Dickie?"
"Nope," responded his twin.
"Do forgive 'em, Miss Ruth," whispered Sadie Raby. "I wouldn't want Mr.
Steele to get after 'em. You know--he can be sumpin' fierce!"
"Well," sighed Ruth Fielding, "they're the 'terrible twins' right
enough. Oh, Tom!" she added, as young Cameron came to her to shake
hands.
"You're getting better and better," said Tom, grinning. "I'd rather be
in a wreck with you, Ruthie--of almost any kind--than with anybody else I
know. Those kids don't even know what you saved them from, when you
dragged 'em over the back of that seat."
"Sh!" she begged, softly.
"And it's a wonder we weren't all blown to glory!"
"It was a mercy we were not seriously hurt," agreed Ruth.
But then there was too much bustle and general talk for them to discuss
the incident quietly. The horse was led away to the stable and there
attended to. Fortunately he was not really injured, but the cart would
have to go to the painter's.
"A fine beginning for this celebration we have on hand," declared Mr.
Steele, looking ruefully at his wife. "If all that can happen with only
two of those fresh air kids, as Bob calls them, on hand, what do you
suppose will happen to-night when we have a dozen at Sunrise Farm?"
"Mercy!" gasped the lady. "I am trembling in my shoes--I am, indeed. But
we have agreed to do it, Father, and we must carry it through."