Ticktock and Jim

by Carol Norton

  Chapter Four New Allies

  By the time school was over for the summer, Ticktock had filled outconsiderably. His hip bones no longer appeared as if they were about topoke through his hide, his neck was less scrawny, and his backbone,though visible, no longer resembled the ridgepole of a tent. Jim couldride him bareback without the painful discomfort of the first few weeks.While the daily grooming had improved the pony's coat a good deal, therewere still patches that were far from satisfactory. Over all, the horsepresented a rather mottled appearance. As some of the snarls in thepony's tail proved too much for Jim's patience, they had been removed bymeans of scissors. The result was rather weird--some strands were longand flowing while others were short and ragged. The mane was likewiseirregular. Jim couldn't bring himself to clip the mane short, as all thecowboys' horses he had ever seen in the movies had long manes. So againhe had clipped where he couldn't untangle, ending up with a mane thatresembled a comb with half the teeth missing. But at any rate the horsewas free of burrs.

  There was no questioning the mustang's health or vitality. He friskedabout like a colt, showing that his wiry constitution hadn't sufferedpermanently from his past mistreatment. Since to Jim the horse hadappeared beautiful in his original state, by now he was the embodiment ofall that was perfect in horseflesh. Ticktock ran to meet the boy eachtime he appeared, even though it might be ten times a day. It had becomesecond nature to obey the boy's whistle. The two were on a perfect basisof friendship and understanding.

  A few days after the summer vacation began, Jim hung on the orchardfence, deep in thought. The summer was just beginning, but he hadn'tforgotten his father's decision the night he had traded for Ticktock.Fall had to come someday and then the mustang would have to go. Mr.Meadows had shown no signs of relenting toward the pony. He ignored themustang as much as possible and when he did have to notice the pony, hiseyes contained as much dislike as ever.

  Something had to be done, decided Jim. Perhaps he could think of some wayto earn money. If he could get enough money to pay for Ticktock's feedfor the winter, his father's chief objection would be overcome. Then withhis mother on his side, Jim felt he might win a reprieve for his horse.He thought over the possible ways of earning money. There weren't manyjobs a boy could do on a farm that brought in cash. Certainly there wasplenty of work, but you did that anyway and didn't expect pay. Now a boyin town could deliver papers, cut the neighbors' lawns and run errands.Here on the farm it was different. Of course you could pick wildblackberries and huckleberries and sell them, but it would be some timebefore either were ripe and he couldn't afford to wait. No, things weretough. Now he knew why boys left the farm. Feeling discouraged he wentinto the house to see if there was something to eat that would take hismind off his troubles.

  "Jimmy," said Mrs. Meadows, as her son ambled into the kitchen, "Youwon't get that cake I promised. I forgot to get any vanilla extract whenI was in town."

  "Gee," said Jim disappointedly. Things certainly were tough. He satthinking a few minutes.

  "Look, Mom," he said brightening, "I'll just ride into town and get theextract. It won't take long."

  Mrs. Meadows looked at her son's eager face for a moment and then gaveher permission. "All right. But you be careful of the cars when you getin town. Motorists don't expect cowboys on mustangs to ride through thestreets."

  "Anything else you need at the store?"

  "How are you going to carry anything? You have to have your hands freefor the reins."

  "I'll take a burlap bag, put the things in it and then hang it acrossTicktock's back," said Jim with decision. At least if this errand didn'tearn any money it would prove to his mother that Ticktock was useful. Andthen a cake wasn't to be sneezed at.

  Jim and Ticktock jogged contentedly into town, enjoying the warmsunshine. Arriving at the town's sleepy main street, Jim looked aroundthoughtfully. Where would he tie Ticktock while he was in Mr. Higgins'grocery store? Hitching posts had long since vanished in Springdale.Finally he spied a fire plug. Sliding off the pony's back, he looped thereins over the plug. Perfect, he decided. He could use the fire plug toclimb back up on Ticktock when he returned.

  Mrs. Meadows had made quite a list of groceries, so Jim was gone sometime. Also he made no effort to hurry away from the store, as it was hisfirst visit to town since he had acquired Ticktock. He stood by thecoffee grinder and inhaled the wonderful odor of freshly ground coffeewhile Mr. Higgins served the two customers ahead of him. Finally he gothis groceries, carefully stowing them in the burlap bag so the weightwould be equally distributed between the two ends. He tied the bag butstuck the bottle of extract in his shirt pocket for greater safety.

  Carrying the bag of groceries over his shoulder, Jim returned to hissteed. The town constable, his star shining brightly on his blue denimshirt, was standing by the fire plug eyeing the mustang with angrydisapproval.

  "This your horse?" the constable asked as Jim approached.

  "Sure is," said Jim proudly.

  "What do you mean tying him to a fire plug?" demanded ConstableWhittaker.

  "I couldn't find any other place to tie him," explained Jim reasonably.

  Robert Morgan, the younger of Springdale's two lawyers, came strolling byat this moment. He stopped to listen to the conversation and to examineJim's horse.

  "Well, you can't tie him to a fire plug," said the constable. "It'sagainst the law."

  "Where will I tie him?" asked Jim. "I'm in town on business and I'vegotta leave my horse somewhere."

  "I don't know where you'll tie him, but fire plugs are out. Why I couldthrow you in jail for this." Whittaker fingered his star, looking at Jimthreateningly.

  Jim began to be decidedly frightened. Desperately he tried to think ofsomething to say.

  "Don't believe you could, Whit," said Robert Morgan with a grin as heentered the argument. "I was reading the town ordinances last night. It'sagainst the law to park a car within fifteen feet of a fire plug but Idon't remember a word being mentioned about horses. You wouldn't have aleg to stand on in court."

  "Do you mean this kid can tie his nag to a fire plug and get away withit?" demanded the big constable irritably.

  Ticktock, in the meantime, had been watching the argument intently. Hehadn't cared for the way Whittaker had glared at him during Jim'sabsence. The horse could sense when anyone disapproved of him and wasquick to reciprocate. He had about decided he didn't like the constablebefore any conversation started. During the argument he kept glancingback and forth between Jim and the huge law officer. He had no idea whatit was all about but he could see that Jim was becoming frightened. As itwas quite plain that the constable was the cause of all the trouble,Ticktock decided it was time to go into action. He edged around until hishind quarters were close to the curb and pointed in the proper direction.After looking over his shoulder to see if Whittaker were at the properrange, Ticktock laid his ears back and a mean glint flickered in hiseyes.

  "Look out!" yelled Morgan. He pulled Whittaker back just in time, asTicktock lashed out with his left hind leg.

  "You not only haven't a leg to stand on," said Morgan, roaring withlaughter, "but you won't be able to sit down for a week if you argue withthis boy while his horse is around!"

  By this time there were a dozen onlookers present, all laughing at theembarrassed constable. The latter, however, refused to join in themerriment. He stood glaring at Ticktock.

  "You leave that horse on the main street again and I'll arrest him forbeing a menace to the public health and safety," the constable threatenedJim angrily.

  "I don't think you can arrest a horse," pointed out the persistentMorgan, who was enjoying himself tormenting the law officer. "Besides,you can't quarter a horse in the town jail. It would be unsanitary."

  At this wisecrack the bystanders became hilarious. One man was busilyjotting down notes on the back of a letter.

  "Nevertheless, don't let me see this horse alone on the main street,"wa
rned Whittaker. He strode off, red and angry.

  "Thanks a lot, Mister," said Jim to the lawyer. He was glad the argumentwas over.

  "Robert Morgan is the name," said the young attorney, extending his hand."I'm happy to have been of service. Any time you need any further legaladvice come to me."

  "I will," promised Jim seriously. "But I'm not planning on getting intotrouble if I can help it. My father wouldn't like it--and then I can'tafford a lawyer."

  "There are no charges," said Morgan laughing. "Just between you and me, Iwouldn't tie your horse to the fire plug even if it is technically legal.I just wanted to bluff Whittaker since he was trying to scare you."

  "Tell you what," said the man who had been taking notes. "You can leaveyour horse in back of my newspaper office whenever you want. You ride himaround there now and I'll show you where you can tie him. Then I'd liketo get your name and a few details if you don't mind."

  Jim rode Ticktock around to the alley to a small green plot in back ofthe newspaper building. The editor and Robert Morgan were waiting for himthere.

  "Tie him to that tree," said the editor, "and come on inside for aminute."

  Jim dismounted and followed his new friends inside. He looked curiouslyat the presses and linotype machines. He would like to have examined themachines more carefully but the two men went directly into a small officewith the label "Editor-in-Chief" written on the door.

  "Have a chair," offered the editor. "My name is Arnold, Bill Arnold."

  "Glad to meet you," said Jim politely. "I'm Jim Meadows."

  "I just want to get down a few facts for the _Gazette_," said Arnold."What is your horse's name?"

  "Ticktock."

  "That's an odd name," observed Arnold.

  "I called him that because I traded my watch for him."

  The editor seemed genuinely interested, so Jim told him about themustang. The boy had been longing to find someone who really wanted tohear about Ticktock's merits, so he became very enthusiastic. Hedescribed how he had traded for the pony and how quickly the horse hadlearned. Very carefully he avoided mentioning that his father had beenangry and was not going to permit him to keep Ticktock permanently.

  "Thank you very much," said Arnold when he had finished taking notes."Watch for the _Gazette_ on Thursday. Ticktock will be in it. Now I thinkwe all ought to adjourn to the cafe and have some ice cream and a coke."

  Jim approved of that idea heartily, so the three went across the streetto the cafe. They joined a tall lanky man who was seated in a boothdrinking coffee.

  "This is Doc Cornby," said Arnold. "Doc, I want you to meet a younghorseman friend of mine, Jim Meadows."

  "How do you do, Jim," said Dr. Cornby gravely, shaking hands.

  "Bob has just been acting as legal counsel for Jim," continued theeditor. "He saved Jim's horse from the law and also the law from Jim'shorse. For details read your local newspaper when it arrives on thestands Thursday."

  "Doc is a good man to know," said Morgan to Jim. "He's the best as wellas the only veterinary in town. If there's anything wrong with yourhorse, call on him."

  "Oh, Ticktock's healthy," said Jim, "but I'll remember in case anythingdoes happen."

  Finishing his ice cream, Jim thanked the editor and got up to leave.

  "Look," said Morgan suddenly, "Let's hire Jim to distribute the billsabout the Co-op. He could take them around on his horse."

  "Good idea," approved the editor. "Do you know the countryside prettywell, Jim?"

  "Why sure," said Jim. "I've lived here all my life."

  "Well, we will give you a dollar and a half a day. The idea is to deliverbills advertising the new Farmer's Co-operative that we are forming. Wewant to put a circular in the hands of every farmer within a radius often miles. I have a big map at my office on which we can mark out theterritory. Want the job?"

  "I sure do," said Jim enthusiastically.

  "You be at the office tomorrow morning at nine or so. The circulars willbe printed by then and we can get started."

  Jim said nothing at home about his day's adventures, other than tomention that he had a job for the next few days. The following morning hehurried through his chores, gave Ticktock a hasty grooming, and thenrushed into the house to change into clean overalls. His mother hadprepared a lunch, which was ready for him, packed in a brown paper bag.Jim looked inside to make certain he would have enough. Riding all daywould not ruin his appetite. There were three thick sandwiches, twopieces of cake and two apples. It would do, he decided after someconsideration.

  "Thanks, Mom," he said. "Ticktock and I'll be home in time for supper."

  "All right, cowboy," smiled his mother. "Don't get lost now."

  "Get lost!" snorted Jim indignantly. "Why even if I did, Ticktock wouldbe able to find the way back."

  He went outside in high spirits, opened the orchard gate and whistled. Itwas no longer an orchard in his mind but a corral which was the privatedomain of the mustang. Of course, the bull was often there but Jim andTicktock ignored that animal as being beneath their notice.

  The pony trotted over to the feed shed for his bridle. As Jim put hispaper lunch bag inside the burlap sack, he thought longingly how handy asaddle would be. You could tie things such as your lunch to the saddlehorn or, even better, get your mother to make some canvas bags to fastenbehind the cantle. The way it was now, you had to have equal weights inboth ends of the burlap bag to make it lie across the mustang's back.Even then it was always sliding off. Well, decided Jim, that was one ofthe problems of life. He did not have a saddle, but he did have awonderful horse--which was the important thing.

  While he was debating what to put in the bag to balance his lunch, herealized suddenly that he had nothing for the horse to eat. There wouldbe plenty of green grass and clover by the roadside, no doubt, but theywould be on the move most of the time with few pauses for Ticktock tocrop. Also a horse needed something solid when he was on the go all day.Feeling rather guilty, Jim went to the corn-crib and picked out sixchoice ears of corn. He would tell his father that night, he decided.After the remark Mr. Meadows had made about having no feed to waste onTicktock, Jim felt rather underhanded in giving the pony any grain. Hewould offer to pay for the corn, now that he was earning money.

  The Springdale _Gazette_ was being run through the presses when Jimarrived in town. He hung around the shop watching the machinery withabsorption. The inky smell and the activity of the print shop fascinatedhim. It must be fun to write things and then see your words appear inprint. When Bill Arnold finally found a free minute and motioned for Jimto follow him into the office, the boy went with reluctance. Perhaps hecould manage to be both an editor and a rancher when he grew older.

  The editor and Jim went over the area to be covered. Arnold outlined theregion on a huge county map which hung on the office wall. Jim made arough sketch, took a huge bundle of bills and started off to work. As hejogged out of town with the bills in two bundles hanging over Ticktock'sback, he again found himself longing for the convenience of a saddle.

  It was pleasant riding in the warm June sun along the country roads.There were flowers by the roadside, the fields were a bright green, andthe air was filled with the heady scent of the rich earth and its newblanket of growing life. Birds sang in the trees while quail scurriedacross the road or took off in their short plummeting flights. Jim feltlike taking off his shoes and wiggling his bare toes in the fertileground.

  It was fun delivering the bills. He and Ticktock developed a system afterthe first few farms. They would jog along at a comfortable easy paceuntil they reached the lane leading from the road. Then they would breakinto a mad gallop, dashing into the farmyard as if on a mission of lifeand death. Most of the men were in the fields working, but such tacticsinvariably brought at least the woman of the house out on the porch tolearn the cause of the excitement. If there were any children present,they crowded around to stare at Jim and Ticktock. Jim felt proud andimportant, particularly if there were boys about his age. He would handhis
circular to the woman with a flourish.

  "Be sure to read that carefully," he told each one. "It's veryimportant."

  He was usually able to deliver the bill to someone without dismounting.After he made his short speech, he would wheel Ticktock quickly andgallop furiously out the lane, knowing that the envious eyes of thechildren were following him. As soon as they were well out of sight,Ticktock would lapse into a pleasant ambling walk until they reached thenext farm. The mustang seemed to enjoy the game as much as his master.Each time he resumed his walk after a spectacular delivery he would turnhis head around to grin at Jim as if saying, "We certainly put on a showthat time, didn't we?"

  Galloping back to the farm]

  The first day passed rapidly. The second morning Jim was stiff fromriding all the previous day, but the soreness soon wore off. Noon foundthe two near Briggs Woods, a heavily wooded area about six miles fromhome. Jim's route was such that the shortest way took him along the oneroad leading through the center of the forest. It was lonely and silentonce the high trees closed behind him, but the semi-gloom appealed to theboy. He stopped beside a small stream in the middle of the forest to eathis lunch. As he munched his sandwiches he could see narrow trails whichled back into the trees and hinted of mystery and excitement. There mustbe pools in the depths of the woods, decided Jim, for the air was filledwith the croaking of frogs. A turtledove was giving its plaintive,mournful coo in the distance and there were rustling sounds in theunderbrush that hinted of wild animals passing near by on theirmysterious errands. Jim inhaled deeply of the odor of pine needles andmoulding leaves. This would be a secret rendezvous belonging to him andTicktock. When he had finished this job, they would explore the foresttogether until they knew it well. Somewhere, back up one of these littlewinding trails, they would find a perfect spot for a hidden camp.

  After lingering so long in the woods, Jim was late in covering the areahe had mapped out for the day. He delivered the last bill and turnedTicktock impatiently in the direction which he thought home to be. Aftergoing several miles, he not only recognized no landmarks, but the farmslooked increasingly unfamiliar. He stopped and puzzled over his map. Thatdidn't help a great deal. He made a grimace and unsuccessfully tried tofigure out his bearings from the rapidly setting sun. Very crestfallen,he had to admit that he was lost.

  Knowing that he could stop in at any farmhouse and ask directions, Jimwas not worried. However, he felt that to do so was to admit defeat. Heand Ticktock were a self-reliant team, and it would hurt his pride toadmit that they couldn't handle any situation. Also he knew theseMissouri farm women. They were kind--too kind to suit his purposes. Theywould give him very complete directions and then insist that he havesomething to eat. That would be fine, for he certainly was hungry, butmatters wouldn't stop there. They would promptly call his parents to keepthem from worrying. That was the last thing Jim wanted. Not only had heboasted to his mother about not getting lost, but both she and his fathermight forbid his delivering circulars again the following day if theywere afraid of his losing his way. No, there had to be a better way out.

  Ticktock looked around at his rider with a question in his eyes. He washungry too and couldn't quite understand what they were waiting for.

  "O.K., boy," said Jim suddenly. "You figure it out. Take us home." He letthe reins go loose.

  Ticktock set out confidently at a brisk trot. He turned right at thefirst corner without hesitation. He was going somewhere, there was nodoubt of that. Jim hoped that it was in the right direction. After threeor four miles, Jim's confidence in Ticktock was justified, for thecountryside began to look familiar.

  "You're the smartest horse in the world," said Jim, patting Ticktockfondly on the neck. "There's nothing we can't do. We'll really explorethat woods now. At least _you_ won't get lost."

  Mr. Meadows was reading the _Gazette_ when Jim arrived. The boy rushed inthe house full of the news of this fresh evidence of the mustang'sbrilliance.

  "I didn't mean to be late to help with the chores," he explained, "butafter I got ready to come home I was all twisted up in my directions andwas going to ask the way, but instead I just let Ticktock go and hebrought us right home."

  "I have to admit that nag seems to have a sense of responsibility whereyou are concerned," said Mr. Meadows dryly. "But where others areinvolved he seems to have a streak of meanness. I warn you to watch himclosely, because if he causes any trouble, away he goes. Here, readthis."

  With these ominous words Mr. Meadows handed Jim the _Gazette_, pointingto an article on the front page. Puzzled, Jim started to read.

  Law Tangles with Horse

  Constable Whittaker came out second best in an encounter with a horse last Tuesday. Ticktock, a fiery mustang from the far West, was peacefully standing on Main Street while his master, Mr. Jim Meadows, was engaged in business in Higgins' grocery store. Constable Whittaker appeared on the scene and threatened to arrest the horse for being illegally parked in front of a fire plug. The horse, refusing to comment without benefit of legal counsel, stood his ground. Mr. Robert Morgan, of Springdale legal fame, learning that one of his clients was in trouble, rushed to the scene. He arrived at the same time as Mr. Meadows, the horse's owner.

  A long legal discussion ensued as to whether or not it is unlawful to park a horse by a fire plug. Ticktock, becoming tired of the argument, decided to settle the issue by kicking Constable Whittaker out of town. Our worthy law officer was saved from this painful fate by the heroic efforts of Mr. Morgan, who not only wanted to protect Constable Whittaker from injury but wished to prevent the question of assault and battery from entering an already involved case. The constable threatened to arrest the horse as a menace to public safety but further thought convinced him that the doughty mustang would doubtless kick his way out of jail in short order.

  The whole matter was settled out of court. The Springdale _Gazette_, with its usual public spirited policy, has placed the yard in back of the _Gazette_ building at the disposal of Mr. Meadows and his horse whenever they are in town. Citizens may often see the mustang peacefully grazing there these days. Ticktock is very friendly and welcomes visitors, but they are warned to make no slurring remarks or threatening gestures toward Mr. Meadows, as the horse is quick to take offense where his master is concerned.