Percy Vance was a stranger in the town and a new scholar at the grammar
school. His age was set down in the roll-book as twelve, but judging
from his height the girls thought he must be past fifteen, while the
boys, after noting the slimness of his figure, the paleness of his face,
and the timid look in his great gray eyes, declared he could not be over
ten.
None of the lads had ever seen him run, and as for playing games, Ted
Harley affirmed that he "didn't know a marble from a top."
But there was something the new-comer _did_ know, and that was his
lessons; so it was not long before he stood at the head of several
classes.
"He must study straight along from the time school's out till supper,
and I say it isn't fair," Dan Tregwin was wont to complain; "for a
fellow who wants to have some fun now and then don't stand any chance at
all."
But the boys soon forgot all about "Percy, the Prig," as he was called
by some, in the joys of the first big snow-storm the town had been
favored with for several years.
In the afternoon of the day succeeding the storm Ted Harley and Dan
Tregwin were taking turns dragging one another on Ted's long "coaster"
toward the steepest hill in town, when Dan suddenly stopped so short
that the sled caught him by the legs and threw him down.
"Well, what next?" he exclaimed, as he picked himself up. "Here's Percy
Vance actually coasting!" And he called Ted's attention to a boy
rapidly approaching them down a side street.
As he reached the bottom of the slope Percy guided himself around the
corner, and went skimming on in the same direction as his school-mates.
It was at this moment that an unusually loud jingle of bells was heard
behind them, and as the lads swerved to one side a large handsome
sleigh, drawn by four coal-black horses, passed them like a flash.
Dan and Ted instinctively shouted "Hurrah!" and even Percy stood up to
stare after the merry party with longing eyes.
"Hi, quick!" suddenly cried Ted, "they've stopped at that house down
there. Let's cut along and get a good look;" and all three boys were
soon by the side of the four-in-hand, the occupants of which had gone in
to make a call, leaving the sleigh in charge of the coachman.
"Whose is it, I wonder?" whispered Dan, feasting his eyes on the
silver-mounted harness, the Russian bells, and the gayly colored plumes.
"I'm pretty certain it doesn't belong in town here," returned Ted.
But just then the coachman called out: "I say, lads, will ye stand by
thim layders' heads a bit?"
Dan and Ted at once sprang forward.
"And you," continued the man, turning to Percy, "just climb up to that
sate, and hould these lines whilst I take a look at that off-whaler's
foot. Don't pull on 'em now, mind ye," concluded the good-natured
Irishman, as he assisted young Vance to his high perch, and placed the
reins in his hands.
At the same instant Ted and Dan exchanged whispers in which the word
"fun" might have been heard. Then, as the coachman's right foot left the
step, they both chirruped softly to the horses, and let go their hold.
The effect was almost magical. All four of the spirited animals started
off with a jerk that threw the coachman on his back in the street, and
came near sending Percy after him.
The terrified driver leaped to his feet in an instant, but how could he
hope to stop the team? His shouts and the wild clangor of the bells
speedily brought the whole party out of the house, but they, too, were
powerless.
Dan and Ted, who had merely meant to make the restive horses rear a bit
"just for fun," to frighten "the prig," thinking that the coachman could
easily clamber up again and pull them in, rushed from the spot with
faces paler than Percy's and hearts that beat fast and loud from other
causes than running.
Meantime how fared it with the victim of the "fun"?
As soon as he recovered from the shock of the sudden start, Percy pulled
on the lines with all his might. But the flying animals scarcely noticed
the tightening rein. Only aware that the iron grip with which they were
usually held was no longer there to restrain them, they tore along at a
mad pace, plunging and snorting with the joy of unaccustomed freedom.
Fortunately the street was but little travelled, but then there was the
steep hill to go down.
The boy's naturally timid heart almost failed him utterly as he fully
realized the danger, and for a moment he was tempted to throw himself
back among the robes and hide his face from the disaster that was all
but certain.
But suddenly his eye lit up with an unusual fire; he took a fresh hold
on the lines, braced his feet, leaned back, and prepared to face the
worst.
With a whirl, a rush, and a swaying from side to side, the four-horse
runaway neared the steep descent. In an instant the boys toiling up with
their sleds gave the cry of warning, and the hill was cleared. Then,
with eyes almost starting from their heads, they gaze after the brief
vision of Percy Vance driving a four-in-hand at lightning speed.
As for Percy himself, he can scarcely realize that the dreaded coasting
hill has been left behind with no wrecked sleigh, wounded horses, and
bruised boy to keep it company. But hardly has he had time to
congratulate himself on his escape when another noise mingles with the
rattle of the bells, and the next instant he finds that he is started on
a mad race with a train of cars.
With a cold thrill of terror coursing through his frame, Percy now
recollects that the road runs parallel with the railroad track for a
mile or more in the open country, and then crosses it. And here is the
train beside him.
Spurred on to yet greater speed by the thunder of the cars the horses
rush onward. The keen wind cuts Percy's face almost as sharply as a
knife, while the thought of the crossing fairly burns itself into his
brain.
Oh, why does not the engineer remember it too, and put an end to the
terrible contest?
But still ever on, tearing, whirling, rushing, plunging, go engine and
cars, horses and sleigh, neither gaining on the other.
To Percy it seemed as if the race had lasted all his life-time. But in
reality it had only continued a moment or two, when the engine slowed
up, the horses were allowed to dash on ahead, and the sleigh flew
victoriously over the crossing just in front of the iron monster, that,
puffing forth great clouds of steam and smoke, waited for it to pass.
Another narrow escape; but how long could this go on? Percy's hands were
becoming numb from the cold, his head was beginning to swim from the
long-sustained excitement, and-- Here is a sharp turn in the road, the
point thickly grown with trees, and the sound of bells coming from the
other side.
A brief instant of suspense, and the corner is reached. There are shouts
of warning, cries of horror, and then it seemed to Percy as if he had
suddenly gone to sleep.
* * * * *
At that same moment, in the loft of Mr. Harley's barn, two figures were
stretched upon the hay, face downward.
"Oh, Ted," one of them is saying, in a hoarse whisper, "Percy Vance
hasn't any father, you know!"
"And I remember now," replied the other, in equally dismal tones,
"somebody's telling me his mother was always so afraid something would
happen to him."
Then both boys lay quiet in their misery until it grew dark, when, under
cover of the night, Dan hurried off to his own home, and Ted went in to
eat his supper, feeling as if every mouthful would choke him.
The next morning Dan stopped for his friend, and together the two
proceeded to school.
"I wonder what they can do to us?" whispered Ted. But Dan could only
shake his head and put a finger on his lips.
On reaching the school-house the boys found a group of their
school-fellows eagerly discussing some important matter. The first words
they heard were:
"He's been arrested, and as they've just come here there was nobody to
go bail, so Percy was taken to prison."
At this there was a chorus of horrified "ohs!" from the girls, and grave
shakings of the head on the part of the boys.
Ted and Dan stood mute, with white lips and dilated eyes, waiting to
hear more.
At this moment Ralph Minting, one of the "big boys," pushed his way in
among the crowd, demanding to know what had happened.
"Why, haven't you heard?" cried three or four in a breath, and then
George Binder began:
"Only think, Percy Vance tried to run off with a four-horse sleigh! The
coachman gave him the lines to hold for a minute, when the 'prig'
started the team up. The man was knocked off the step, and away went
Percy like the wind, until he ran into Mr. Renford's cutter, three miles
from here, when he was thrown out and stunned. The cutter was upset, and
Mr. Renford bruised a bit, while the horses ran into a stable-yard half
a mile farther on, and stopped, with sleigh and all safe and sound. But
the owner was in a towering rage, and as soon as Percy was brought back,
he had him arrested for petit larceny, as they call it, and--"
Here the nine-o'clock bell cut short the narrative, but Ted and Dan had
heard enough.
Without daring to look at one another, they went in and took their
seats. But instead of studying, they sat most of the time gazing in a
dazed sort of way at Percy Vance's vacant seat.
At recess Tom Wayne, whose father was justice of the peace, came running
breathlessly into the yard with the news that Percy had been "brought
up," and firmly denied the crime charged against him.
"And just as I left," concluded Tom, "they had the coachman up as a
witness. He declared there were two boys standing at the horses' heads,
so they couldn't have started off of their own accord. But the queer
part of it is that nobody knows who these two boys were except Percy,
who vows he will never tell."
At these words Ted and Dan started as if struck, and then, regardless of
the bell that had already begun to ring, made off on a run for Judge
Wayne's office.
As if by a common impulse, they gave themselves no time for thought, but
on reaching the door passed inside at once, to be greeted with the
exclamation:
"An' shure here are the young gintlemin to spake for thimselves. Now,
thin, me byes, step forward and testify as to how this young scapegrace
tried to stale me tame, givin' me at the same toime this big bump on the
back of me head."
Neither of the lads ever forgot Percy's look at that moment. He was
sitting by a sad-faced lady, dressed in the deepest mourning, and as Ted
and Dan entered the room, his large gray eyes gave them both a brief
piercing glance, then instantly dropped toward the floor.
"Let Percy Vance go. It was all our fault," cried Dan, in a loud voice;
and then he went on to tell how he and Ted had started the horses.
"But how--why, boys, I don't understand," exclaimed the bewildered
judge, who knew both lads well. "What did you do such a thing for?"
"Just for fun," replied Dan, in a low voice, and hanging his head.
Thereupon the owner of the sleigh and Judge Wayne held a short
consultation, the result of which was that each of the offenders was
required to hand over all his pocket-money as a fine, and pass the
remainder of the day in the cell Percy had occupied.
"We make your punishment thus light," concluded the judge, "in
consequence of the manly way in which you have come forward and
acknowledged your fault."
He then proceeded to give Percy an honorable discharge, and from that
time forth Mrs. Vance lacked not for friends, nor was her son ever again
called a "prig."
As for Ted Harley and Dan Tregwin, after seven hours spent in the
station-house, their ideas as to the difference between pure fun and
malicious mischief were so distinct that there is no danger of their
ever mixing the two up again.