AN UNFORTUNATE OUTING.
Fortunately for the unhappy Felix the horse walked away from the hotel
in an orderly fashion, and soon they gained the highway leading to the
resort the party wished to visit.
Had the dude left the horse alone all might have gone well. But he
deemed it necessary to pull on first one line and then the other, which
kept the carriage in a meandering course.
“I don't think, Mr. Gussing, that you can be much used to driving,” said
one of the young ladies, presently.
“That's a fact,” answered the dude.
“Why don't you keep to the right of the road?”
“Well,--er--the fact is, this horse is a very difficult one to drive. I
don't believe I ever drove one which was more so.”
As this was the first horse Mr. Gussing had ever driven, this assertion
was true in every particular.
“Oh, I can't travel so slow!” cried one of the young ladies, and seized
the whip, and before Felix could stop her, used it on the steed.
The effect was magical. The horse started up like a racer, and tore
through the street as if trying to win a race for a thousand dollars.
The dude clung to the reins in the wildest terror. To his frenzied
imagination it seemed that his final hour was approaching.
“Whoa!” he screamed, jerking on the lines. “Stop, you crazy beast! Stop,
before we all get killed!”
But the horse only went the faster. And now, to increase his alarm, he
saw a buggy approaching from the opposite direction. It contained one of
the town lawyers, Silas Simms by name.
“We shall run into that buggy!” screamed the fair Belle. “Oh, Mr.
Gussing, be careful!”
A moment later the two turnouts came together with a crash, and one
wheel was torn from the buggy and the town lawyer pitched out headlong
to the ground. Then on went the carriage with the dude and the two young
ladies, at a faster pace than ever.
“Let me jump out!” screamed one of the ladies.
“No, not yet! You'll be killed, Grace,” answered Belle.
“Then stop the carriage!”
Alas, the poor Felix was already doing his best to stop the horse. But
his jerkings on the reins only added to the horse's wildness.
Not far along the road was a good sized brook, spanned by a neat wooden
bridge. As the carriage neared the bridge, Felix pulled on the wrong
rein once again. The horse turned from the road proper, and descended
full speed into the stream itself.
“Oh, now we'll be drowned!” shrieked Grace.
But she was mistaken. The stream was easily fordable, so there was no
danger on that score. But the rate at which they were impelled through
the water naturally created no inconsiderable splashing, so that on
emerging on the other side the dude, as well as the young ladies, were
well drenched.
To the great joy of Felix the contact with the water cooled the ardor of
the steed, so that he resumed the journey at a far more moderate rate of
speed.
“Wasn't it just glorious!” cried Belle, who, after the danger seemed
past, grew enthusiastic. “What a noble animal!”
“Glorious?” echoed the dude. “I don't care much about such glory. As
for the noble animal--I--er--I wish he was hung! That's the best he
deserves.”
The dude spoke bitterly, for the spell of terror was still on him. Had
he consulted his own wishes he would have leaped from the carriage and
left the ladies to their fate.
But the thought of the bewitching Belle made him keep his seat, and he
resolved that if he must die he would do it like a martyr.
The horse went on, and at last they neared the end of the short journey.
But here a new obstacle presented itself. There was a big fence and a
gate, and the gate was tight shut.
As they could not enter the grounds without opening the gate, the dude
got down out of the carriage. He did not hand the reins to either of the
ladies but laid them over the dashboard.
The instant the gate was swung open the steed darted forward, and
brought up with a jerk against a post that happened to be in the way.
Here he reared and plunged, causing the young ladies to scream “murder”
at the top of their voices.
“Oh, my! Oh, dear me!” bawled Felix, and took refuge behind a
neighboring hedge. “The horse has gone crazy! He'll bite somebody next!”
The cries reached some men who were not far off, and they came running
to the assistance of the party. One caught the steed by the bridle and
soon had him quieted down.
“I'll never drive that horse again!” said the dude. “Not for a million
dollars!”
“How are we to get home?” queried Belle.
“I'll drive you,” said one of the men. “I know this horse. He used to
belong to Bill Perkins. I know how to handle him.”
“Then do so,” answered Felix, “and I'll pay you two dollars.”
The man was as good as his word, and to Felix's astonishment he made the
horse go back to the hotel without the slightest mishap. Then the horse
was put in the stable, the dude paid the bill, and the party separated.
“I shall never drive again, never!” declared the dude to himself, and it
may be added that he kept his word.
“I hope you had a nice drive,” said Joe, when he met Felix that evening.
“It was beastly, don't you know,” was the answer. “That horse was a
terribly vicious creature.”
“He looked to be gentle enough when he started off.”
“I think he is a crazy horse.”
“By the way, Mr. Gussing, Mr. Silas Simms was looking for you.”
“You mean that lawyer who drives the spotted white horse?”
“Yes.”
Felix gave a groan.
“He says he wants damages.”
“It wasn't my fault that the horse ran into him.”
“Well, he is very angry about it, anyway,” said our hero.
Early the next morning Felix Gussing received a communication from the
lawyer. It was in the following terms:--
“MR. GUSSING. Sir:--In consequence of your reckless driving yesterday,
I was thrown from my carriage, receiving a contusion on my shoulder and
other injuries. My carriage was also nearly ruined. If you choose
to make a race-course of the public highways you must abide the
consequences. The damage I have sustained I cannot estimate at less than
one hundred and fifty dollars. Indemnify me for that and I will go no
further. Otherwise, I shall be compelled to resort to legal action.
“SILAS SIMMS, Atty.”
Felix read the letter several times and his knees shook visibly. He did
not want to pay over such an amount, yet it struck him with terror when
he thought he might possibly be arrested for fast driving. He went to
see Mr. Silas Simms.
“I am very sorry,” he began.
“Have you come to pay?” demanded the attorney, curtly.
“Well--er--the fact is--don't you think you are asking rather a stiff
price, Mr. Simms?”
“Not at all! Not at all, sir! I ought to have placed the damages at
three hundred!”
“I'll give you fifty dollars and call it square.”
“No, sir, a hundred and fifty! Not a penny less, not one penny! Look
at my nose, sir--all scratched! And my ear! Not a penny less than one
hundred and fifty dollars!” And the lawyer pounded on his desk with his
fist.
“All right then, I'll pay you, but you must give me a receipt in full,”
answered the dude.
He had to wait until the bank opened, that he might cash a check, and
then he paid over the amount demanded. The lawyer drew up a legal paper
discharging him from all further obligations. Felix read it with care
and stowed it in his pocket.
“And now let me give you some advice, Mr. Gussing,” said the lawyer,
after the transaction was concluded. “Don't drive such a wild horse
again.”
“Depend upon it, I never shall,” answered the dude. “It costs too much!”
he added, with a faint smile.
“Are you well acquainted with horses?”
“No.”
“Then you had better leave them alone altogether.”
“I have already made up my mind to do so.”