THE BOY WITH ONE SUSPENDER.
Jack's first thought, after assuring himself that his horse was
irrevocably gone, was to run for help to the line of settlements on the
other side of the grove, where some means of pursuit might be obtained.
He knew that the road which Mr. Wiggett had described could not be much
beyond the hollow where his wagon was; and, dashing forward, he soon
found it. Then, stopping to give a last despairing look at the billowy
line of prairie over which his horse had disappeared, he started to run
through the woods.
He had not gone far when he heard a cowbell rattle, and the voice of a
boy shouting. He paused to take breath and listen; and presently with a
crashing of bushes three or four horned cattle came pushing their way
through the undergrowth, into the open road, followed by a lad without a
jacket, with one suspender and a long switch.
"Boy," Jack cried, "how far is it to the nearest house?"
"Our house is jest down through the woods here," replied the boy,
stopping to stare.
"How far is that?"
"Not quite so far as it is to Peakslow's house."
"Where is Peakslow's house?"
"Next house to ours, down the river."
Seeing that this line of questions was not likely to lead to anything
very satisfactory, Jack asked,--
"Can I get a horse of anybody in your neighborhood,--a good fast horse
to ride?"
The boy whipped a bush with his switch, and replied,--
"There ain't any good horses around here, 'thout 'tis Peakslow's; but
one of his has got the spring halt, and t' other's got the blind
staggers; and he's too mean to lend his horses; and, besides, he went to
Chicago with 'em both this morning."
Jack did not stop to question the probability of a span thus afflicted
being driven on so long a journey; but asked if Mr. Wiggett had horses.
"No--yes. I believe his horses are all oxen," replied the boy; "not very
fast or good to ride either."
Thereupon Jack, losing all patience, cried out,--
"Isn't there a decent nag to be had in this region?"
"Who said there wasn't?" retorted the boy.
"Where is there one?"
"We've got one."
"A horse?"
"No; a mare."
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
"'Cause you asked for horses; you didn't say anything about mares."
"Is she good to ride?"
"Pretty good,--though if you make her go much faster 'n she takes a
notion to, she's got the heaves so folks'll think there's a small
volcano coming!"
"How fast will she go?"
"As fast as a good slow walk; that's her style," said the boy, and
whipped the bushes. "But, come to think, father's away from home, and
you'll have to wait till to-morrow night before you can see him, and get
him to let you take her."
"Boy," said Jack, tired of the lad's tone of levity, and thinking to
interest him by a statement of the facts in the case, "I've been
hunting, and a rascal I trusted with my horse has run off with him, and
I have a harness and a buggy and a couple of dead deer out there on the
prairie."
"Deer?" echoed the lad, pricking up his ears at once. "Did you shoot
'em? Where? Can I go and see 'em?"
Jack was beginning to see the hopelessness of pursuing the horse-thief
that night, or with any help to to be had in that region; and he now
turned his thoughts to getting the buggy home.
"Yes, boy; come with me," he said.
The boy shouted and switched his stick at the cattle browsing by the
wayside, and started them on a smart trot down the road, then hastened
with Jack to the spot where the wagon and game had been left, guarded by
Lion.
But Jack had another object in view than simply to gratify the lad's
curiosity.
"If you will hold up the shafts and pull a little, I'll push behind, and
we can take the buggy through the woods. After we get it up out of this
hollow, and well into the road, it will be down-hill the rest of the
way."
"You want to make a horse of me, do ye?" cried the boy. "I wasn't born
in a stable!"
"Neither was I," said Jack. "But I don't object to doing a horse's work.
I'll pull in the shafts."
"O good!" screamed the boy, making his switch whistle about his head.
"And I'll get on the seat and drive!" And he made a spring at the wagon.
But Lion had something to say about that. Having been placed on guard,
and not yet relieved, he would permit no hand but his master's to touch
anything in his charge. A frightful growl made the boy recoil and go
backwards over the dead deer.
"Here, Lion! down with you!" cried Jack, as the excited dog was pouncing
on the supposed intruder.
The boy scrambled to his feet, and was starting to run away, in great
terror, when Jack, fearing to lose him, called out,--
"Don't run! He may chase you if you do. Now he knows you are my friend,
you are safe, only stay where you are."
"Blast his pictur'!" exclaimed the boy. "He's a perfect cannibal! What
does anybody want to keep such a savage critter as that for?"
"I had told him to watch. Now he is all right. Come!"
"Me? Travel with that dog? I wouldn't go with him," the boy declared,
meaning to make the strongest possible statement, "if 't was a million
miles, and the road was full of sugar-candy!" And he backed off warily.
[Illustration: UP-HILL WORK.]
Jack got over the difficulty by sending the dog on before; and finally,
by an offer of money which would purchase a reasonable amount of
sugar-candy,--enough to pave the short road to happiness, for a boy of
thirteen,--induced him to help lift the deer into the buggy, and then to
go behind and push.
They had hard work at first, getting the wagon up out of the hollow; and
the boy, when they reached at last the top of the hill, and stopped to
rest, declared that there wasn't half the fun in it there was in going a
fishing; the justice of which remark Jack did not question. But after
that the way was comparatively easy; and with Jack pulling in the
shafts, his new acquaintance pushing in the rear, and Lion trotting on
before, the buggy went rattling down the woodland road in lively
fashion.