COLONEL WIMPLETON DROPS THE REINS.
The breeze was light after the shower, and the Raven did not give Nick
Van Wolter much trouble to manage her. He was able, therefore, to
devote his undivided thought to the disappointment he had experienced,
and the odium he had incurred. Tommy Toppleton had stepped between him
and the richest prize that ever lured a mortal young man; and Nick
seemed to have no doubt that the treasure would have been easily won
if his brilliant scheme had not miscarried. He did not thank Tommy for
what he had done; and he envied him in the enjoyment of Miss Minnie’s
smile.
But one was a Toppleton and the other was a Wimpleton. The two houses
had been at war for many years, and the two heads of the families were
still as implacable and bitter as ever towards each other. Major
Toppleton would not permit his daughter to become a Wimpleton; and
Colonel Wimpleton would not permit his daughter to share the lot of a
Toppleton. Nick found consolation in this reflection. Yet it was a fact
that Tommy and Minnie would dine and spend the day together. With the
perversity of young men and young women under such circumstances, they
would meet again without the knowledge of their fathers, and in a short
time the matter would have gone so far that it could not be checked.
What would Colonel Wimpleton say if he knew that his daughter was
filled with admiration and gratitude towards the son of his great
enemy? Would he allow them to spend a whole day together? Certainly
not. But he, the disinterested Mr. Nick Van Wolter, knew all about it.
He was well aware that Tommy and Minnie were cementing an attachment
which fathers could not break off. As a friend of the family, as
a sincere well-wisher of Miss Wimpleton, was it not his duty to
interfere, and inform the colonel of the nature of the proceedings
at Grass Springs? He had no difficulty in convincing himself that
such a course was the highest duty of the hour, and that it would be
inexcusable in him to neglect to perform it.
Yet it was a disagreeable duty. Any interference on his part might cost
him the valuable friendship of Waddie, though it might secure to him
the more valuable influence of the colonel himself. As he considered
the subject in all its bearings, he found himself very unwilling to
incur the displeasure of Waddie, and, at the same time, of Minnie
herself. It would ruin all his possible chances in the future. He had
fully intended from the first that there should be “music” at Grass
Springs that afternoon, and that Colonel Wimpleton should make it; but
when he looked the matter fair in the face, he was not disposed to
become the informer in person.
The colonel must know what was going on at the Springs. It was not
prudent for Nick to tell him, and he thought of various expedients
to accomplish the purpose. He could invent nothing that was quite
satisfactory, though he had been nearly two hours in the boat
considering this subject alone. He finally concluded to consult
his mother, who was a veritable female Talleyrand in the art of
diplomacy. This disposition of the matter did not suit him much better,
inasmuch as he could not see how she was to manage the matter without
implicating him.
While he was still arguing the case with himself, adopting and then
rejecting various methods, the Raven’s keel ground roughly on the sands
at the bottom, and then came to a sudden stop. As the wind was not
exactly fair to go up the lake, he had been obliged to beat, making a
long and a short tack. The Raven had passed clear of a headland, about
half way between Ruoara and Centreport, and was standing into a little
bay above the point. Nick had been so absorbed in his reflections, that
he did not notice the rapid shoaling of the water as he neared the
shore. He immediately let go the sheet, in which he had put no half
hitches this time; and seizing an oar, he attempted to push the boat
off the shallow beach. But she had taken the ground while under full
headway, and all his strength was not sufficient to move her.
In vain he pushed and swayed the boat; her keel was buried in the sand,
and it was impossible for him to move her a single inch. He labored,
sweat, and swore till he was heartily discouraged. The water was not
knee deep over the bow, and rolling up the legs of his pants, he stood
upon the bottom, and tried to pry her off with the oar; but in this
task he was also unsuccessful. He was still three miles from home, and
he did not like to walk this distance, on the one hand, or to endure
the censure and criticism of Waddie, on the other, if he exposed his
mismanagement to him. The road from Centreport to Ruoara lay close to
the shore, and there was a house within a quarter of a mile of the
spot. He finally concluded to go in search of assistance, for with the
help of one or two others he could push the Raven off into deep water.
Taking his shoes and stockings in his hand, he waded ashore, and,
having put them on, he started for the nearest house, in the direction
of Ruoara. He had gone but a few steps before he was startled by
the appearance of a buggy coming towards him, the horse attached to
which was running at the top of his speed. His first impulse was to
get out of the road, and let the frightened animal go on his way to
destruction, with the helpless gentleman who occupied the seat of the
vehicle. But a second glance assured him that the individual in the
buggy was Colonel Wimpleton. Possessed of the current information in
regard to the personal habits of the magnate of Centreport, Nick had no
difficulty in satisfying himself that the great man was intoxicated,
and had lost the control of the spirited animal he drove. Perhaps this
was the chance which had long been in store for the ambitious young man.
[Illustration: NICK’S OPPORTUNITY.]
Perhaps it would serve his turn as well to save the father as the
daughter. But it was no easy matter to stop a terrified horse, though,
if the stars were favorable, he might succeed in doing it. Nick had
only one instant for reflection; if he had had two, very likely he
would have declined to attempt the perilous feat. Impelled only by the
desire to do a big thing in the service of the powerful and influential
man of Centreport, he pulled off his coat and commenced flourishing it
furiously in the middle of the road. The horse saw this obstacle in his
path, and evidently did not like the looks of it. He snorted wildly,
and exhibited an evident intention to dodge it. Sheering towards the
lake, he attempted to pass the obstruction; but Nick changed his
position, and the animal abated his headlong speed.
“Stop him! Stop him!” cried the colonel, who was plainly terrified by
the situation, for the reins were dragging on the ground.
The horse, intimidated by this movement on the part of Nick, threw
himself back upon the breeching with such force as to pitch the
colonel forward upon the dasher of the buggy. The mad animal snorted
furiously in his terror, and then seemed disposed to wheel and run in
the opposite direction; but the instant his speed was checked, Nick
dropped his coat and sprang to the bridle of the horse. It was the
coat, and not the young man, which had frightened the animal; and when
this was no longer before him, he attempted to renew his flight towards
home, and dragged poor Nick for twenty rods before he could produce any
effect by his bold action.
Having once grasped the bridle rein, Nick was obliged to hold on for
his own safety; for if he let go, he was sure to be thrown down and
mangled under the wheels. The horse had not yet broken into a run
after his flight was checked, and, dragging Nick by his bit, he was
not likely to do so till he had shaken off this burden. By the dint of
tugging and jerking, the young man had drawn the horse’s head round to
one side, which impeded his efforts to go forward. The animal was not
ugly, but frightened, and his struggles were only honest efforts to
escape.
“Whoa, Major; whoa!” said Nick, in soothing tones, for he had had some
experience with horses.
By these gentle means he succeeded in quieting the animal, and finally
in stopping him, though he was still quivering with terror, and very
impatient of restraint.
“Whoa, Major; whoa!” continued Nick, panting from the violence of his
own efforts.
He had learned the horse’s name at the owner’s stable; and patting him
on the neck, he soon reduced him to a state of tolerable calmness.
Colonel Wimpleton improved the earliest opportunity to get out of the
buggy. It was plain enough that he had been drinking a great deal; but
the perils through which he had passed had done something to modify the
influence of his drams.
“You have done me a good turn, young man,” said the magnate, when he
was safe on the solid ground.
“Whoa, Major; whoa!” added Nick, as the horse began to be impatient
again.
“O, it’s Nick Van Wolter!” exclaimed the colonel, as he recognized the
person to whom he was indebted for this signal service.
“Yes, sir; that is my name,” replied Nick. “The Major is wide awake
to-day.”
“I never knew him to attempt to run away before. I don’t know exactly
how it was; but in brushing a fly from his flank, I dropped the reins.
While I was trying to get them again, he got frightened, and broke into
a run,” added the colonel.
Nick was not so impolitic and impolite as to hint at the true
explanation; but probably the great man, overcome by his frequent cups,
had dropped asleep, and lost the reins from his grasp; and doubtless
they had dangled against the horse’s heels, and terrified him. This was
the most probable solution of the problem.
“Yes, sir; I did that same thing once myself, when I was driving the
mail wagon; but my horse was not smart enough to run away,” replied
Nick, wishing to do all he could to soften the mortification of the
great man. “Whoa, Major; whoa. Stand still; that’s a good fellow!”
“You have done me a good turn, young man,” added the colonel, who felt
compelled to express his obligations.
“I’m glad to serve you, sir,” answered Nick, struggling to be modest.
“Come to my house, when you get back to town, and I will make it all
right with you.”
“O, it’s all right now, sir.”
“Not quite,” said the colonel. “You have done well; but this will be a
good day’s work for you. You shall be well paid for what you have done.”
“I don’t want any pay, sir, for doing a thing like this,” replied Nick,
in the words of the romances he had read.
“Come and see me, at any rate.”
“I will, sir, if you desire; but I don’t wish to be paid for a slight
service like this.”
“Won’t you ride home with me?” added the colonel, as he stepped into
the buggy, the horse being by this time apparently quite reconciled.
“Thank you, sir; I have a boat here.”
“Very well; but come and see me as soon as you return;” and the magnate
started his horse.