TOMMY HAS AN ACCIDENT
“Now, be careful of yourself, Tommy,” his mother stopped to call to
him as he sat on the high seat of the moving van. “Don’t fall off,
and don’t stop on the road. We’ll be there ahead of you, and I’ll try
and have something ready to eat.”
“All right, mother,” replied Tommy, feeling that he was quite an
important young man now. “I’ll be careful.”
“I’ll look after him,” promised the moving man.
“And nobody will step on him,” added the helper—the one with the big
feet.
Then Tommy was fairly started on his journey, and he looked down from
the high seat, almost wishing that he was a van driver, instead of
going to be merely a baseball player.
“Are you the captain?” asked the moving man, suddenly.
“Captain of what?” asked Tommy.
“Of the baseball nine.”
“No, I haven’t really got it started yet. You see, I don’t know any
of the boys in that place we’re going to, but if I can get up a team,
I may be manager or captain. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oh,” said the man, and then he laughed, and Tommy wondered why.
“They’re a good team,” said the man after a while.
“What team?” asked Tommy quickly.
“My horses,” replied the moving man. “They can pull a heavy load.”
“Oh, I thought you were speaking about a ball team,” said Tommy.
“Yes, they’re nice horses.”
Tommy was so busy thinking of the many things that had happened in
the last few hours that he did not feel much like talking. It hardly
seemed possible that it was only a short time ago that he had been
playing ball with his boy friends, and now he was moving away. But it
was true.
The van rumbled along the streets until it came to the open country,
and then it was not so noisy, as the wheels rolled along on the soft
dirt of the roads.
“Will we be there by dinner time?” asked Tommy, who wondered what one
did about meals when it was moving day.
“Oh, yes, we’ll easily be there by noon,” replied the man; “that is,
if we don’t have an accident.”
“What kind of an accident?” asked Tommy.
“Oh, a wheel coming off the van, or a horse falling down, or
something like that.”
“Did you ever have any accidents?” asked Tommy.
“A few,” replied the man. “I was a week once getting a load two
miles.”
“How did it happen?”
“Well, you see, we broke an axle, and we had a van filled with goods.
The man who owned them was in no hurry, so we just left them in the
wagon, jacked the front part up, put on a new axle, and in a week we
started off again. The blacksmith was so busy, he couldn’t make an
axle in less than a week.”
“And did you stay on the van all that while and have nothing to
eat?” asked Tommy, wondering what would happen if an accident like
that should occur now.
“Bless your heart, no! I took the horses to a stable and I went home.
When the axle was fixed, the blacksmith sent word to me, and I came
and finished the moving. I couldn’t go a week without eating, you
know—nobody could.”
“I guess that’s right,” admitted Tommy, and he felt a sort of gnawing
pain in his stomach, as if he was even now getting hungry. And it was
no wonder, for breakfast had been eaten very early that morning.
As the van swayed to and fro over the rather rough road, Tommy had to
hold tightly to the sides of the seat, and with his ball and bat to
look after this was not so easily done.
“You’d have done better to have put them in the van,” said the moving
man, looking at the baseball things.
“They might have got broken,” said Tommy.
“Yes, they might,” admitted the man.
They rode on for some miles. The sun climbed higher and higher in the
sky, and it seemed to be about noon, and still the man did not say
that they were near Riverdale. The other van—for there had been two
of them—was out of sight now, having started off a little in advance
of the one on which our young hero rode.
“What will we do if we don’t get there in time for dinner?” asked
Tommy after a while.
“Oh, we’ll get there,” said the man, confidently.
Just then the wagon went over a rather large stone, gave a lurch and
swayed to one side.
“Look out!” cried the man, pulling on the reins sharply and making a
grab for Tommy. The lad grasped the side of the seat with both hands
to save himself from falling, and to do this he had to let go of his
ball and bat. They both slipped down, and the next instant there was
the sound of splintering wood.
“Whoa!” cried the moving man, sharply. “What’s that? Is something
broken—a wheel?” He pulled in the horses, which had almost stopped of
their own accord.
“It isn’t a wheel,” said Tommy. “It’s my bat. A wheel ran over it,
and it’s broken.”
“What, the wheel?” cried the man. “Don’t tell me the wheel is broken!”
“No, it’s my bat,” answered Tommy, and he spoke sorrowfully, for he
had saved up his spare change for some time to buy that bat, and he
liked it very much.
“Oh, your bat!” exclaimed the man. “That’s too bad! Wait, I’ll get it
for you, and maybe you can mend it.”
“The ball, too,” exclaimed Tommy. “That fell.”
“Yes, I see the ball. That rolled to one side and isn’t hurt a bit.
But that bat—well, maybe you can put some wire on it,” and the moving
man handed the horse reins to Tommy.
“Do you want me to hold them?” asked the boy.
“Sure. They’ll stand steady. Just hold the lines from slipping, and
I’ll get the bat for you.”
Tommy Tiptop felt very proud as he sat there on the high seat,
holding the reins of the four horses, and he looked over the side to
watch the man pick up the ball and bat. The ball was found first, for
that had merely rolled into the dust. Then the man called out:
“Too bad! The bat is broken in three pieces, and it isn’t worth
mending. Never mind. I think I’ve got an old bat at home, and the
next time I’m in Riverdale I’ll bring it to you.”
“Will you, really?” asked Tommy, and he did not feel so sorry now.
The man climbed up to the high seat again, and, taking the reins,
called to the horses. They stepped out slowly, for there was quite
a hill in front of them, and they knew that it would be hard work
getting up it.
“Well, if that’s the only accident we have we’ll be lucky,” remarked
the moving man as he cracked his whip. “This place is a little
farther than I thought it was. I don’t believe we’re going to make it
before one o’clock.”
“Maybe they won’t save any dinner for me,” exclaimed Tommy.
“Oh, I guess they will. If they don’t, you can have some of my lunch.
I have a whole pail full, that my wife put up for me this morning,
and there’s more than I need. Don’t worry.”
They were at the foot of the hill now, and the horses settled
themselves into the collars to pull the heavy van up the slope.
Suddenly there was a cracking sound, and the van gave a lurch. It
settled down on one side, as though one of the wheels had gone into a
hole.
“Look out!” yelled the man. He grabbed Tommy, and only just in time,
or our hero would have fallen off. But Tommy had a glimpse of what
had happened.
“It’s the wheel this time!” he cried, as the horses came to a stop.
“What about it?” asked the man, as he got ready to go down.
“It came off, and it rolled over in the bushes. It isn’t broken, but
it came off.”
“Just my luck!” cried the man. “Talk about accidents, and they’re
sure to happen. The nut came loose, and the wheel rolled off. Is the
axle broken? I mean the black piece of iron sticking out, that the
wheel goes on. Is that broken?”
“No,” reported Tommy, taking another look. “That’s all right.”
“Then it isn’t so bad, if I can find the nut that holds the wheel on.
We’ll have to look for it. Wait now, I’ll help you get down.”
It was not easy to get off the high seat of the van, all tilted to
one side as it was, but they managed it.
“Now, we’ll see if we can find the nut,” suggested the moving man,
when he had looked at the axle and made sure that it was not broken.
It had dug itself away down into the dirt of the road, though.
So Tommy and the man looked all around for the nut, but they could
not find it. It had probably come off some time before the accident
happened, and was lying far back in the road.
“I ought to have an extra nut,” went on the man, as he poked about in
the dust and bushes with a stick. “Now I’m in a pretty pickle!”
“Why, can’t we go on to Riverdale?” asked Tommy.
“No, not a step. I’ve got to go to the nearest blacksmith shop and
get a nut. We’ll have to give the horses their dinners, and let them
stay here in the shade,” and the man went over and began unhitching
the animals. Tommy noticed that there were nose-bags filled with hay
and oats on the back of the van.
“The horses will have a good dinner and a rest,” said the moving man.
“Yes,” replied Tommy, slowly, “but what about you and me? I—I’m
afraid I’m hungry!”
“Shouldn’t blame you a bit,” replied the moving man. “I am myself.
But don’t worry. I’ve got a big pail full of lunch, and we’ll have a
regular picnic here—you and I—and then, after we eat, I’ll go see if
I can find a blacksmith shop and get a nut.”
After putting the nose-bags on the horses’ heads and tying the
animals to a fence, in the shade of a big tree, the moving man got
out a big tin dinner pail from under the van seat.
“Now we’ll have a fine meal,” he exclaimed. “My wife always puts
me up a big lunch when I take moving loads out into the country. I
know there are sandwiches and pie, and I’m pretty sure there are
cookies. And in the top part of the pail there is, most likely, some
rich milk. Oh, but we’ll have a fine dinner, even if we did have an
accident!”
So he opened the pail. Suddenly he looked into it, as though
something was the matter. Then he poked his fingers down inside the
tin.
“Why—what—what’s the matter?” asked Tommy in wonder.
“Matter!” exclaimed the man. “Matter! Everything is the matter! There
isn’t a bit of lunch in the pail! Not a _crumb_! I must have taken
the wrong pail this morning, for I have two. We haven’t a thing to
eat, Tommy Tiptop! Here are only two empty tin cups in the pail, and
my knife and fork wrapped up in a napkin! My! This is too bad!”