IN THE CORNFIELD
Just about this time a race was going to be run. There were a number of
horses, with jockey lads on their backs, waiting for the signal to begin
their fast pace around the track. Up in the booth, where the judges and
the starter were standing to give the signal, everything was in
readiness. The people around the race track were all excited, for they
wanted to see which horse would win.
And then, just as the starter gave the word, and the jockey boys on
their horses' backs called to their steeds to run fast, out on the track
walked the horse to whose neck Freddie was clinging!
At first the little fellow had been so startled when the animal to whose
back he had scrambled walked out of the barn with him that he had not
known what to do. He just clung there.
But, finding that the horse was very gentle and did not try to reach
back and bite his legs, Freddie began rather to like it.
"Go 'long, nice horsie! Go 'long!" called Freddie, and he clapped his
heels against the sides of the animal.
The horse went along all right--fairly out on to the race track, and
just as the race was starting!
"Here! Where you going?"
"Come back with that horse!"
"Look out! Stop him, somebody! That boy will be hurt!"
These were only a few of the many cries that rose from the grandstand
and the space in front of it when the people saw Freddie right in the
path of the rushing horses.
"Ring that bell!" cried one of the judges to the starter.
The starter pulled the cord of the big gong which is rung to bring the
horses back if they have not made an even start, as very often happens.
Clang! went the gong. The jockeys on the backs of the horses knew what
the ringing of the bell meant. Some of them had begun to guide their
horses so as not to run into Freddie and his mount, but there were so
many racers that one or two of them might have bumped into the little
fellow. But when the jockeys heard the ringing of the bell they knew it
was a false start and they pulled in their steeds and some turned back.
But now something else happened. While the horse Freddie had climbed up
on was kind and gentle, yet he was a race horse. And as soon as he found
himself out on the track he must have thought he had been ridden there
to take part in a race.
At any rate, before Freddie could stop him, even if the little Bobbsey
lad had been able to do this, the horse began to trot around the track.
Perhaps he thought the ringing of the bell meant for him to start.
So away he ran, going faster and faster with poor Freddie bobbing up
and down, but still clinging to the animal's neck. It was all Freddie
could do, as there was no saddle horn to grasp.
"Whoa! Whoa!" begged the little chap. "Nice horsie! Whoa now!"
It was not so much fun as Freddie had at first thought to take a ride in
this way. At the beginning he had an idea that he might some day be a
jockey and wear a gayly colored silk blouse. But he never imagined race
horses went so fast.
"Whoa! Whoa!" cried Freddie again. But his horse did not stop. Indeed,
it only went faster.
"Somebody get after that boy!" yelled the starter, leaning from the
judges' stand. "He'll be hurt if you don't get him!"
"I'll get him!" offered one of the jockeys. He called to his horse and
was soon speeding around the track after Freddie. And now the horse on
whose back the little Bobbsey boy was seated, hearing another steed
coming after him, began to think it was a race in real earnest, and he
commenced to go faster. All the "whoa" shouts Freddie uttered were of
no use.
"Go on, Tomato! Go on!" cried the jockey to his horse. "Go on, Tomato!"
Tomato was the name of his animal.
The shouts and the screams of the crowd attracted the attention of Mr.
Bobbsey and the other children as they came from the animal tent. And as
Mr. Bobbsey neared the race track he had a glimpse of his little son
clinging to a horse and riding very fast, while a jockey on another
horse chased him.
"Oh, look! Freddie's in a race!" cried Flossie! "Oh, maybe Freddie will
win!"
"My goodness! how did this happen?" cried Mr. Bobbsey.
"Will he be hurt?" gasped Nan.
But just then, to the great relief of the Bobbsey family, the jockey
managed to come up alongside of Freddie's galloping horse. The jockey
reached over with one hand, caught Freddie by the seat of his little
trousers, and fairly lifted him off the back of the now excited horse.
Then, placing Freddie on the saddle in front of him, the jockey turned
his horse about and rode slowly back to the stand. Some of the
stablemen then ran out and caught the other horse.
"Why, Freddie! what in the world were you trying to do?" asked his
father, when the little boy was placed in his arms.
"I--I just wanted a ride," Freddie explained. "I got tired of ridin' on
wooden lions. I wanted a live horse."
"Well, he picked a lively one all right!" laughed a man in the crowd.
"That horse he rode has won every race, so far."
"You must never do such a thing again, Freddie," his father told him,
when the excitement had died down and the racing was once more started.
"Never again."
"No, I won't," Freddie promised. "But when I grow up I'm goin' to ride
horses, I am!"
"That will be a good while yet," laughed Bert.
"I'm glad your mother wasn't here," said Mr. Bobbsey. "She would have
almost fainted, I'm sure, if she had seen you out on the race track like
a regular jockey."
"Did I look like a jockey?" Freddie asked, eagerly.
"Well, not exactly," Bert said. "You didn't have any silk blouse on."
"I'll get Dinah to make me one when I go home," Freddie declared. "I'll
have a red one, I guess, and then if I get tired of ridin' horses I can
be a fireman."
"Well, I think we've had excitement enough for one day," remarked Mr.
Bobbsey. "We'll have something to eat, look around a little more, and
then go home."
"But we can come back again, can't we?" asked Bert. "I haven't seen the
balloon go up yet."
"Yes, we want to see that," added Harry.
"I'll bring you to the fair again to-morrow or next day," promised Mr.
Bobbsey. "I want to come back myself. I've met a number of men to-day
I'd like to talk with further. Then I'd like to have a talk with that
Mr. Blipper."
That night, at Meadow Brook Farm, Mr. Bobbsey and his wife, after the
children had gone to bed, talked over the strange disappearance of Mr.
Bobbsey's coat and the auto lap robe.
"I'm sure that Blipper knows something about them," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Or perhaps that strange Bob Guess--what an odd name."
"It is an odd name," agreed Mr. Bobbsey, "But it fits, for they don't
know what his real name is--at least he says he doesn't. But I don't
believe Bob had anything to do with the taking of my coat and the robe.
I'd like to find out more about the boy. He seems bright, and I feel
sorry for him. I must see that man, Blipper, and have a talk with him."
"Wasn't he at his merry-go-round to-day?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"No, he had gone off somewhere. But I am going to the fair again with
the children, and I'll get at Blipper sooner or later."
"Well, if you go to the fair again, please keep an eye on Freddie!"
begged the mother of the Bobbsey twins. "He's a little tyke when it
comes to slipping away and doing strange things."
"Yes, he is," agreed her husband. But the next day was to prove that
Flossie could also "slip away," when there was a chance.
The Bobbsey twins, with Harry, were out in the cornfield gathering ears
of corn to feed to the hogs and chickens. The corn had been cut and
stacked into piles called "shocks," and it was from the stalks in these
shocks that the ears of yellow corn were broken off and placed in
baskets to be taken to the house.
"Let's play hide and go seek for a while," suggested Nan to her brother
and Harry. "Flossie and Freddie are over there by themselves, shelling
corn." The smaller twins had been given a little basket, and they were
now busy breaking off kernels of corn from some small ears, and dropping
the corn into their basket.
"For the chickies," Flossie had explained.
So while the smaller twins were thus "kept out of mischief," as Nan
said, she, with Bert and Harry, began a game of hide and go seek. It was
lots of fun, dodging in and out among the tall corn shocks, which rose
above the children's heads. The game went on for some time, until even
Bert and Harry said they were tired.
"Well, we'll take the corn up to the house," announced Nan. "Come,
Flossie and Freddie," she called. Freddie came up, carrying the basket
of shelled corn, but Flossie was not with him.
"Where's your sister?" asked Harry.
"Who, Flossie? Oh, she went away. She said she was going home," Freddie
answered. "She went home a good while ago!"
"Went home!" echoed Nan, with a gasping breath. "Why, she never could
find the way all by herself. Oh, maybe she's lost!"