CHAPTER XVII
THE RUNAWAY HORSE
“Pull out yourselves, consarn ye!” shouted Jim Boolus, his face purplewith rage. Then, seeing that Lee made no move, he suddenly snatched hiswhip from its socket, and made a savage cut at Lee’s horse.
Old Jerry reared and would have bolted forward, had not Lee held himquiet with all the strength he possessed. Bobby was infuriated byBoolus’ cruel action, and in a second he was out of the buggy and wasleading the old miser’s horse off the road. With a yelp of rage Boolusmade a cut at him with his whip, but Bobby dodged just in time, and thestinging lash landed on Boolus’ horse instead. The unfortunate animal,already greatly excited by the altercation, gave a leap to one side,cramping the front wheels against the buggy. The light rig careenedover, and then, as the horse started forward at top speed, it turnedover completely, rolling Boolus out into the deep sand at the roadside.The frightened horse dragged the overturned buggy a short distance, butthen his harness broke, and he streaked down the road in a cloud of dustand sand, leaving the wrecked buggy lying on its side.
Jim Boolus staggered to his feet and gazed after his fast disappearinghorse for an instant, then turned toward the boys. For a moment theywere bewildered at the sudden development of events, but when they sawthat Boolus was unhurt the comic side of it struck them both at the sametime, and they shouted with laughter. But their discomfitted enemyfailed to see any humor in the situation.
“I’ll sue ye for this, see if I don’t!” he yelled, dancing about in hisrage. “You’ll pay for that buggy, or I’ll know the reason why.”
“I don’t see where I come in,” said Lee. “You hit your own horse and heran away. Both of us saw you do it, and we could swear to it in court.You don’t suppose any one around here would believe you if you tried totell them anything else, do you?”
Boolus glared at the boys, but the truth of what Lee said was so evidentthat he could think of no suitable retort.
“And now,” continued Lee, “I and my friend here wish you a very pleasantwalk to wherever it is you were going,” and with these words he spoke toJerry, who started off. As they looked back the boys could see the oldskinflint still standing in the road shaking his fists at them, until asudden turn hid him from view.
“Well, that’s one time Mr. Jim Boolus got the worst of it,” said Bobby,wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. “The look on his face as hepicked himself out of that sand heap was worth going a long way to see.”
“It surely was,” agreed Lee, “but I’m rather sorry it happened just thesame. He’ll hate us worse than ever now, and he won’t stop at anythingto get even.”
“Well, don’t worry about it,” advised Bobby. “Anyway, he got the worstof it this time, so maybe he will again.”
“Well, I hope so,” said Lee. “He always does the meanest thing he canthink of, anyway, so probably this won’t make much difference.”
They reached the village without further adventure. Lee carried out thecommission his mother had given him, and they started back immediately.
“We’re late as it is, on account of that ruction with Boolus,” said Lee.“Fred will think we’ve gotten lost, sure.”
“I guess when we tell him what delayed us he won’t mind very much,” saidBobby, with a twinkle in his eye. “He’ll never get over being sorry thathe wasn’t with us when it happened.”
They passed the wrecked buggy lying in the same position, but there wasno sign of its owner, and the boys concluded that some one had probablycome along and given him a lift. When they reached the plantation, theyfound Fred waiting for them at the gate.
“I thought you would be here an hour ago,” he exclaimed impatiently.“What’s been keeping you?”
“Jump in, and we’ll tell you while we’re going up to the house,” saidLee, and then he and Bobby told him all about their encounter withBoolus. As Bobby had predicted, Fred was greatly disappointed at havingmissed the adventure.
“But I’ll have to admit you made good use of that extra hour,” heconceded. “I was getting mad as a hornet when you didn’t show up ontime, because I’ve got the motor boat all provisioned and ready tostart. And it’s a peach of a boat, too,” he added.
“Well, that’s the kind we want,” said Bobby. “I’m all ready to start ata moment’s notice.”
“We’ll have to go to the house first,” said Lee, “but that won’t take uslong.”
To save time, Lee told Mose to go to the boat landing and wait for themthere, so that he could take the horse and buggy back when they gotthere.
“We Southerners just hate to walk when we can ride,” he explained.“Besides, it will save time.”
Mrs. Cartier insisted that they have lunch, although if left tothemselves the boys would have preferred to start their trip and eat inthe boat. They told her about the encounter with Jim Boolus, and whenthey saw how anxious she became they felt sorry for the first time thatit had happened. However, there was nothing to be done about it, andafter a hasty meal they said good-by to her, jumped into the buggy, andin a short time were at the tiny boathouse.
This was situated in a small creek or inlet, and was built right overthe water, so that one had only to open the doors and guide the boatout. The boat itself was a staunch little twenty-foot craft with adependable two-cylinder motor to drive it, and Fred had seen to it thatMose should have the brass work shining. The negro had been far fromenthusiastic over this job.
“Whut’s de use to scrub up all dat brass,” he had argued, “when it won’tbe no time at all before de mist from de ribber has it green ag’in.Seems t’me it would be more sensible like to spend de time restin’ outin de nice warm sun.”
“You might as well say it’s no use eating because you’ll only get hungryagain,” Fred had told him. “I’ll bet you don’t believe that though, doyou?”
“Nossuh,” said Mose, with a broad grin, “dat’s a diff’rent breed o’cats, suh.”
Apparently convinced by Fred’s argument, he had fallen to with a will,with such good results that the motor boat now looked spick and spanenough to go in some water festival.
“It sho looks nifty,” admitted Mose, “but mah elbow aches yet when Ahreflects how hard Ah had to dig befo’ Ah got it dat way.”
“Never mind,” said Lee, as he gave the flywheel a twist that set themotor to chugging in a business-like manner. “When we come back we’llbring you some swamp chickens for supper, Mose.”
“Whut’s dem swamp chickums?” inquired the negro. “Cain’t seem torec’lect no sech fowl no-how.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Lee, with every appearance of conviction. “Theyhave black combs, red tail feathers, and blue eyes. You must have seenone, haven’t you?”
“Nossuh, an’ whut’s more, Ah don’ believe dey never was no sech a kindof a chickum,” said Mose.
“All right, then, just you wait till we bring you one back,” said Lee,and guided the boat out into the sluggish river, leaving Mose scratchinghis woolly head on the bank.
The river was perhaps a hundred feet wide at this point, and flowed soslowly that it was hard to believe that there was any current at all.The banks were covered with trees that grew right down to the water’sedge at this point, but as the little craft chugged its way upstream,the trees gave way to high, rank grass, with here and there a loftycypress tree shooting up out of the rank vegetation.
“We’re on the edge of the swamp country now,” explained Lee. “In anotherhour we’ll be right in the heart of it.”
Bobby Blake on a Plantation; Or, Lost in the Great Swamp Page 17