CHAPTER XI
"FORGET IT!"
The young express agent acted quickly. A single glance told him that thedriver of the cab could do nothing.
The frightened horses were speeding ahead at a furious rate, could notbe overtaken, and Bart doubted if anyone could stop them.
No one tried, but all got out of the way promptly as the team wenttearing along. The horses came to a crossing, and, terrified anew at aspitting "Vesuvius" ahead, abruptly veered and turned down a side lane.
It was at this moment that Bart threw open the door of the cab, graspeda handle at the side of the vehicle, and drew himself up to the driver'sseat.
The swing the horses made just then sent his feet flying out in a wildcircle, but he held on, and the rebound landed him on the seat.
Our hero cast a quick look within the vehicle. The colonel had"rousted" up somewhat. Buffeted from side to side by the erratic andviolent movements of the horses, he was trying to maintain his balanceby frantically clinging with both hands to the cushion under him.
As a wheel struck a stone the jar drove him forward. His head smashedout the front glass, and he uttered a yell of fear.
"Don't stir--don't jump!" shouted Bart through the opening thus made.
"We'll be killed!" cried the man.
"No, we won't. Do as I say. I'm on deck, and I'll--"
Bart sized up the situation, counted its risks and possibilities, anddescribed a sudden forward leap.
The lines were torn and trailing under the horses' feet. He cut the airin a reckless, but well planned dive.
Bart landed sprawling between the two horses, his knee striking thecarriage pole.
Bracing himself there, he caught out at the head of either horse. With afirm grip his fingers closed on the bridle reins.
Ahead was a stony wagon track lining a deep gravel pit dangerously nearits edge.
About a hundred feet further on ran the creek, sunk between banks somefifteen feet high.
Bart drew the bridles taut. He feared the tremendous strain would breakthem. The heads of the horses were now held as in a vice, but theysnorted and continued to plunge forward with undiminished speed.
As a wheel landed in a rut full of thick mud, their pace was momentarilyretarded. Bart jerked at the bridles. The horses paused fully, butpranced and backed.
"Jump--crawl out--quick, now!" shouted Bart breathlessly to the occupantof the cab.
The colonel had been bouncing around, groaning and yelling ever since hehad awakened to a realization of his desperate plight.
"Wait a minute!" he puffed. "Gently! Wait till I get out. Then you cango on," was his remarkable concession.
Bart saw the bulky body of the magnate fall, rather than step from thevehicle. He landed clumsily at the side of the road, rolled up like aball, but unhurt.
He was so near to the grinding wheels of the vehicle and kicking hoofsof the horses that Bart relaxed the bridles.
Instantly the horses sprang forward again, but, once clear of thecolonel's prostrate body, Bart focused his strength on a final masteryof the maddened steeds.
He drew the bridles at a sharp, taut slant that must have cut theirmouths fearfully at the tenderest part, for they fairly screamed withpain and terror.
He succeeded in facing them sideways, ran their heads into some brush,vaulted over them, and, landing safely on his feet in front of them,grabbed them near the bits and held them snorting and trembling at astandstill.
Then he unshipped one of the lines and tied it around a sapling, strokedthe horse's heads, and succeeded in quieting them down.
Going back to the road, he discerned Colonel Harrington sitting uprubbing his head and staring about abstractedly.
Farther away was a flying excited figure. Bart recognized thedisenthroned cabman. They met where the colonel sat.
"All gone to smash, I suppose!" hailed Carey.
"No, a window broken, wheels scraped a little--nothing worse," reportedBart.
"Where is the team?" panted Carey.
Bart pointed and explained, and the cabman forged ahead with a gratifiedsnort.
"You stuck till you landed 'em," applauded Carey. "Stirling, you'renerve all through!"
Bart went up to Colonel Harrington and the latter got on his feet. Bartcould see that either the druggist's potion or his succeeding violentexperience had quite restored the magnate to his original self. Henursed a slight abrasion on his chin, looked at Bart sheepishly, andthen stepped over to a big bowlder and rested against it.
"Are you feeling all right now, Colonel Harrington?" asked Bartcourteously.
"Me? Now? Ah yes! Quite--er--er--thank you."
Bart was somewhat astonished at the words and manner of his whilomenemy.
Colonel Harrington looked positively embarrassed. He would glance atBart, start to speak, lower his eyes, and, turning pale as he seemed toremember, and turning red as he seemed to realize, would fumble at hiswatch fob, run his fingers through his hair and act flustered generally.
"The cab will be back in a few minutes," remarked Bart. "It was a prettybad shaking up, but I hope you are none the worse for it. Good day,Colonel Harrington."
Bart turned to leave. He heard the colonel spluttering.
"Hold on," ordered the magnate. "I want to give you--I want to giveyou--some money," he observed.
"I can't take it, Colonel Harrington," said Bart definitely. "If I havebeen of service to you I am glad, but you will remember I was in thesame danger as yourself, and quite anxious to save my own skin."
"Bosh! I mean--maybe," retorted the colonel, getting bombastic, and thenhumble.
"Well, put up your money, Colonel," advised Bart. "As I say, if I havebeen of service to you I am glad."
"You hold on!" ordered Colonel Harrington, as Bart again moved to leavethe spot.
The speaker poked in his wallet and brought out a strip of paper, whichBart recognized as the one he had so menacingly waved in his face anhour previous at the express shed.
Colonel Harrington again poked about in his pockets till he found apencil. With somewhat unsteady fingers he inscribed his name at thebottom of the paper, and handed it to Bart.
"You take that," he directed.
"Why, this is a receipted bill for the damage done to your statue," saidBart.
"Eighty-five dollars--just so."
"But I haven't paid it!"
"You needn't. Serious mistake--I see that," said the colonel. "That is,I see it now. Satisified you didn't mean any harm. Sick of whole muddle.And about getting you discharged and all that rot--didn't mean it.Forget it! Was a little mad and excited; see!"
"I can't take your receipt for what I haven't paid, and what I amwilling to pay as fast as I can," said Bart.
"Then tear it up--I won't take a cent!" declared Colonel Harringtonobstinately.
"The cab is coming," remarked Bart. "Shall Mr. Carey drive you home?"
"Yes, I suppose so. Come here, quick!"
He grabbed Bart's arm and drew our hero close up to him, as though hehad some pressing intelligence to impart before the cab interrupted.
"Forget it!" he whispered hoarsely.
"About the statue--I'll be glad to," said Bart frankly.
"No--no, the--the--"
"Runaway? I shall not mention it, Colonel Harrington."
The colonel released Bart's arm, but with a desperate groan. It wasevident he was not fully satisfied.
"Sure you'll forget It!" he persisted, very much perturbed. "I don'tmean my abusing you, or the runaway, or--or--I mean I had an accidentafter I left you at the express office. Someone hailed me--but you know,you know!"
The colonel cast a penetrating look on Bart, who shook his headnegatively.
"I don't know, Colonel," he declared.
"Oh, come, now!" croaked the colonel, making a ghastly attempt to givethe statement the aspect of a joke. Honest, you didn't hear anyone callto me?"
"No," replied Bart.
The cab drove up and halted.
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"Don't do any talking. Don't start any gossip about--about--of courseyou won't! I've got your word. You're a truthful, reliable boy,Stirling, and I--I respect you," stumbled on the colonel. "Mum's theword, and I'll--I'll make you no trouble, see?"
"Thank you, Colonel Harrington," said Bart in a queer tone.
The colonel again regarded him penetratingly, and then got into the cab.He took the trouble of leaning out and waving his hand as the vehiclestarted up. He smiled in a sickly way at Bart, and once made a movementas if inclined to get out and once more suggest to the young expressagent that he "forget it."
"That man is scared half to death over something," reflected Bart, as hetook a short cut to regain the express office.
Bart Stirling's Road to Success; Or, The Young Express Agent Page 11