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margin-left:auto; } + p, li, dd, dt, div.bcat { max-width:25em; } + blockquote, li { max-width:23em; } + + div.verse { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } + div.bq { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:23em; } + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44400 ***</div> + +<div class="img"> +<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Ticktock and Jim" width="500" height="757" /> +</div> +<div class="box"> +<h1>TICKTOCK +<br /><i>and</i> +<br />JIM</h1> +<p class="center"><i>By Keith Robertson +<br /><span class="small">With Illustrations by Wesley Dennis</span></i></p> +<div class="img" id="logo"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="Boy on galloping horse" width="300" height="183" /></div> +<p class="center">THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY +<br /><i>Philadelphia · Toronto</i></p> +</div> +<p class="tbcenter"><span class="smaller"><i>Copyright, 1948, by The John C. Winston Company +<br />Copyright in Great Britain and in The British Dominions and Possessions +<br />Copyright in the Republic of the Philippines</i></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="smaller">First Printing December, 1947 +<br />Second Printing June, 1948 +<br />Third Printing December, 1949</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="smaller"><i>Made in the United States of America</i></span></p> +<p class="tbcenter"><span class="sc">To Christina</span>, +<br /><i>Who at two is somewhat confused about horses and thinks they say “Moo.”</i></p> +<h2>Contents</h2> +<dl class="toc"> +<dt class="jr"><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></dt> +<dt><a href="#c1"><span class="cn">Chapter One </span><span class="sc">The Trade</span></a> <i>1</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c2"><span class="cn">Chapter Two </span><span class="sc">The Reception</span></a> <i>24</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c3"><span class="cn">Chapter Three </span><span class="sc">The First Victory</span></a> <i>38</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c4"><span class="cn">Chapter Four </span><span class="sc">New Allies</span></a> <i>49</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c5"><span class="cn">Chapter Five </span><span class="sc">The Pony Express</span></a> <i>69</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c6"><span class="cn">Chapter Six </span><span class="sc">The Saddle</span></a> <i>82</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c7"><span class="cn">Chapter Seven </span><span class="sc">Horace</span></a> <i>100</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c8"><span class="cn">Chapter Eight </span><span class="sc">Exile</span></a> <i>115</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c9"><span class="cn">Chapter Nine </span><span class="sc">The Lost Horse</span></a> <i>135</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c10"><span class="cn">Chapter Ten </span><span class="sc">Ticktock Disappears</span></a> <i>147</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c11"><span class="cn">Chapter Eleven </span><span class="sc">The Conspirators</span></a> <i>165</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c12"><span class="cn">Chapter Twelve </span><span class="sc">Jean’s Ride</span></a> <i>182</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c13"><span class="cn">Chapter Thirteen </span><span class="sc">The Mystery Is Solved</span></a> <i>196</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c14"><span class="cn">Chapter Fourteen </span><span class="sc">The Fire</span></a> <i>208</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c15"><span class="cn">Chapter Fifteen </span><span class="sc">A Long Night</span></a> <i>222</i></dt> +<dt><a href="#c16"><span class="cn">Chapter Sixteen </span><span class="sc">The Convalescence</span></a> <i>233</i></dt> +</dl> +<div class="pb" id="Page_1">[1]</div> +<h1 title="">Ticktock and Jim</h1> +<h2 id="c1"><br />Chapter One +<br />The Trade</h2> +<p>“Someone has to stay home to give Colonel +Flesher that Jersey calf,” said Mr. Meadows. +“Since we are the only men around the place, +it looks as if you’re elected.”</p> +<p>“O.K. I’ll stay. I don’t mind,” Jim answered +cheerfully, if not too accurately. He did mind very +much.</p> +<p>“I’m sure everything will be safe with you,” continued +Mr. Meadows as he climbed in the car.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll take care of things,” said Jim nonchalantly.</p> +<p>He watched the car drive off. His father, mother +and sister Jean were all going into town for the +afternoon while he stayed at home alone. He felt +rather proud that his father had called him a man, +but that didn’t make up for the disappointment of not +going with them. He went over to sit on the edge of +the front porch, where he forlornly kicked his heels +<span class="pb" id="Page_2">[2]</span> +against the lattice work. It was a beautiful spring +day with a warm sun shining, but Jim was in no +mood to appreciate the wonders of nature. His small +brown face looked very mournful as he sat there +feeling sorry for himself. Something exciting was +certain to happen in town, and he would miss it. He +wondered how long the family had been gone now. +Jumping up, he ran inside the house and returned +with a large gold watch.</p> +<p>“Quarter past one,” he said aloud. Doubtfully, he +held the watch to his ear.</p> +<p>“Ticktock, ticktock,” came the answer.</p> +<p>It seemed impossible that it was only a quarter +past one; it would be almost four hours before the +family returned. Although it was a form of treason +to doubt that watch, Jim peered through the kitchen +door to compare it with the kitchen clock. The watch +was right. It promised to be a long dismal afternoon.</p> +<p>To pass away the time he polished the gold case +with his big red bandanna. The watch was his most +prized possession; his father had given it to him +on his twelfth birthday, almost eight months before. +He wore it only on special occasions or when he was +feeling sad, like today. Carefully he unscrewed the +back and looked at the shiny works. The balance +wheel was going back and forth quietly and faithfully. +Jim polished the inside of the back cover and +reread the inscription for the hundredth time. “To +James Meadows from Elizabeth, June 7, 1884.” +Over sixty years ago his grandmother had given that +watch to his grandfather and it was still bright and +shiny, and kept perfect time.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_3">[3]</div> +<p>“I wish it would run a little faster this afternoon +though,” said Jim, as he placed the watch in his +overall watch pocket.</p> +<p>Feeling a tiny bit more cheerful, he walked +toward the orchard fence. A gentle breeze was blowing +toward him, bringing the delicate scent of apple +blossoms. He leaned on the fence, inhaling deeply +and gazing at the riot of blossoms in the orchard. +When it is spring in southern Missouri, one must +have a very deep sorrow to remain downhearted +long. Jim, being young and normally very healthy, +was recovering his spirits rapidly. He wrinkled his +short nose and after inhaling the odor of apple +blossoms again, decided that he would go closer to +the trees. Now that no one was about he might even +break off a sprig of blossoms. Having a healthy fear +of appearing a sissy, he would never think of doing +such a thing if his sister Jean were present. Flowers +were for girls as far as he was concerned.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_4">[4]</div> +<p>He was halfway across the orchard when he remembered +the bull. The big red bull was Mr. Meadows’ +pride and joy but Jim’s pet abomination. He +was afraid of it and very reasonably so, as it was a +mean-tempered animal. Feeling rather panicky, Jim +turned to hurry back toward the gate. It was too +late. Unnoticed, the bull had slipped behind him and +was now blocking the way. The big animal was +standing very quietly, looking straight at Jim. There +was a wicked look in the bloodshot eyes that indicated +plainly that he had no intention of remaining +quiet long.</p> +<p>With a sinking sensation in his stomach, Jim +looked around frantically, trying to figure which +fence was the closest. It was rather a tossup as to +distance. Choosing the fence bordering the road as +being the easiest to climb, he began backing cautiously +toward it, keeping his eyes on the hostile +bull.</p> +<p>As Jim made up his mind which way to move, so +did the bull. He snorted several times, pawed the +ground ferociously, lowered his head and charged +toward the boy. The powerful feet dug into the soft +ground as the big body gathered speed in a ponderous +rush. Jim knew he would never make the fence +in time. He was frightened, but not too frightened +to think. Once the huge bull was up to top speed he +couldn’t change direction quickly. As the thundering +feet drew dangerously close, the boy darted +quickly to the right and ducked behind the nearest +apple tree. The bull swerved and roared by like an +avalanche.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_5">[5]</div> +<p>Jim was safe for a moment, but he knew he would +not have long to wait until the bull charged again. +The animal had turned around and was pawing and +snorting. Reluctantly Jim gave up all ideas of reaching +the fence. He grabbed the lowest branch of the +apple tree and swung his stocky body upward. He +was just in time, for the bull rushed underneath him +like an express train.</p> +<p>Giving a whistle of relief, the boy climbed higher. +Finding what appeared to be a comfortable perch, +he settled down to consider the situation. Apparently +he would simply just have to sit there and hope the +bull would forget him. The bull decided to play a +waiting game too. He pawed and snorted for a time +and then calmed down. Although he grazed quietly, +he showed no signs of leaving the vicinity. Just as +Jim would begin to grow hopeful, the animal would +lift his head and gaze balefully up into the tree. This +began to appear very one-sided to Jim after a few +minutes. While the bull could amble around at his +ease, the most Jim could move was a few inches. +What had appeared a comfortable seat began to +grow very irksome.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_6">[6]</div> +<p>He shifted around trying to find a soft spot. It +was impossible. One spot was as bad as another. +There was a limit as to how long one could sit comfortably +in an apple tree. Now Jim grew really sorry +for himself. How he wished he could have gone into +town with his family. That was the most exciting +event of the week. First they took the cream to the +Springdale Creamery, where he could walk around +inhaling the clean smell of steam and butter. It was +fascinating to watch the huge revolving churns. He +supposed today would be one of those times when +Mr. Slemak would offer everyone a drink of cold +buttermilk.</p> +<p>The grocery store was fun too. Probably Jean was +sampling the cookies now. When his father paid the +grocery bill there was always a bag of candy for +both him and Jean. He hoped Mr. Higgins wouldn’t +forget him just because he wasn’t along. Jim sighed +miserably. Instead of smelling the odor of newly +ground coffee, here he was up in a tree smelling +apple blossoms. The scent which was so wonderful +before was getting rather tiresome now.</p> +<p>“What a mess!” he said to himself. He looked +down at the bull, his anger mounting. “Go away, you +big dope!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_7">[7]</div> +<p>That did no good either. Jim remained uncomfortably +in the tree. To make matters worse, bees +began to buzz around entirely too close to his head. +Holding on to the tree with one hand and swatting +at bees with the other was not pleasant exercise. +Suddenly he remembered he hadn’t closed the orchard +gate behind him. If the bull did wander away, +he would be perverse enough to head straight for the +gate. The yard gate was open too, so the way onto +the road was clear. Once he was out on the road +there was no telling where the animal might stray. +Now Jim was torn between hoping the bull would +go away and wanting him to stay. Either way, he +decided he was in a pickle. His parents would either +come home to find him trapped in the apple tree or +else would find the bull loose and strayed to parts +unknown.</p> +<p>The thought of Colonel Flesher came like a ray of +light. The stock buyer was supposed to arrive about +three o’clock. If the bull were still standing guard +beneath the tree, the colonel could come to the rescue +and all would be well. Jim shifted his perch slightly +and hoped the stock buyer would arrive soon. It +seemed as if he had been in the tree for hours. He +reached in his pocket but his hand found nothing. +With a horrible sinking feeling he realized his precious +watch was gone. It must have bounced out of +his pocket while he was racing for the tree. With an +effort he kept back the tears. He looked back along +his recent path, hoping to catch the glint of gold. +There was nothing in sight but the new green grass. +If the bull had trampled on it during his mad rush, +the watch was probably broken and buried in the +soft earth. Completely dejected now, Jim sat in the +tree and mourned. It was certainly a heartbreaking +day.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_8">[8]</div> +<p>He was so deep in his misery that he did not notice +a strange cavalcade coming over the hill until the +creaking of wagon wheels and the neighing of a horse +caused him to look up in surprise. The procession, +which was nearing the yard gate, was so unusual +and interesting that Jim forgot his woes and stared +in excited curiosity. First there was the oddest +wagon he had ever seen. It was a large wagon with +a sort of house built on the chassis. The house had a +flat roof which stuck out in front and overhung the +driver’s seat, and the board sides contained two +small windows. Initially Jim thought it was a ranch +chuck wagon, for he had been reading Western +stories; but then he changed his mind and decided it +was more like a circus wagon or like the wagons he +had seen in the movies used by traveling road troupes +in the old days.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_9">[9]</div> +<div class="img" id="p8"> +<img src="images/p8.jpg" alt="Caravan of horse trader" width="500" height="199" /> +</div> +<p>Seated on the high driver’s seat was an old man in +a sombrero, whistling cheerfully and clucking to a +team of huge black horses. The team was ambling +along slowly, drawing the wagon with effortless ease. +But what attracted Jim’s gaze most was the procession +following the wagon. Strung out behind were +at least twenty horses of all sizes and colors—big +gray Percherons, medium-sized brown horses, sorrels, +some dark bays, light grays and a few whites. +Jim looked at each horse in turn until finally he +came to the last in the string—a lean little mouse-colored +horse whose small body contrasted oddly +with the other broad-rumped work horses.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_10">[10]</div> +<p>The fascinating cavalcade drew still nearer until +it reached the gate. The driver gave a slight tug on +one rein and the wagon started turning. Jim was so +interested and delighted that he almost lost his seat +in the tree. The strange wagon and all those horses +were coming in their yard! Almost doubting his eyes, +he saw the vehicle progress down the lane and come +to a halt, the long string of horses bunching up behind +the wagon until they too finally stopped. The +old man climbed down from his high perch and +looked around inquisitively. Seeing no one in the +yard he started toward the house.</p> +<p>“There’s nobody home but me,” shouted Jim +loudly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_11">[11]</div> +<p>The stranger turned around to look toward the +orchard, and Jim got his first good view of the visitor. +He was a tall stringy individual with a long +gray handle-bar mustache that drooped from his +upper lip and hid much of the lower part of his face. +He was obviously a very old man, but there was nothing +old about his movements nor the way his bright +eyes searched in the direction from which the voice +had come. He looked puzzled, for all he could see was +apple blossoms.</p> +<p>“And where are you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I’m up here in a tree,” said Jim, poking his black +thatched head as far through its frame of apple +blossoms as he dared. “The bull won’t let me climb +down.”</p> +<p>“Treed are you?” asked the man, laughing at +what Jim didn’t think was a funny situation. “Just +how mean is that bull?”</p> +<p>“Dad handles him without any trouble,” replied +Jim. “Once in a while he has to hit him on the nose +with a stick.”</p> +<p>“Be with you in a minute.” The stranger hunted +around until he found a big piece of wood for a +club.</p> +<p>The bull decided he wasn’t quite so ferocious when +he saw a determined man approaching with a sizable +club. He gave a few disgruntled snorts and then ambled +off to the far end of the orchard. Thankfully +Jim climbed down from his uncomfortable haven.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_12">[12]</div> +<p>“Thanks, Mister,” he said with feeling. “Now I’ve +got to find my watch.”</p> +<p>He hurried back along the path of his recent flight +from the bull, searching the ground anxiously. About +thirty feet from the tree he found his watch, lying +bright and shining in the sun. He picked it up and +held it to his ear. It was ticking away merrily. With +a huge sigh of relief, Jim put the watch in his pocket.</p> +<p>“You really got me out of a mess,” he said, as they +walked toward the gate. “I was trapped in that tree, +the orchard gate was open, and my watch was lying +on the ground.”</p> +<p>“That looks like a pretty good watch to be carrying +around in your overalls.”</p> +<p>“It’s about the best watch in the world I guess,” +said Jim proudly. “I don’t usually carry it every +day.”</p> +<p>“Now you can do me a good turn,” said the +stranger as they went out of the gate, fastening it +this time. “I’d like to water my horses.”</p> +<p>“Sure, bring them over to the tank.”</p> +<p>Jim pumped more water into the big cement tank +while the man led his horses over to drink. First +he watered the team he was driving and then started +with the string of horses behind the wagon.</p> +<p>“How come you’ve got so many horses?” asked +Jim, his curiosity getting the better of his manners.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_13">[13]</div> +<p>“I’m a horse trader. Not many traveling horse +traders left any more. I usually have a lot more +horses than these, but I sold fourteen yesterday.”</p> +<p>“Gee,” said Jim, “it must be a lot of fun to have +so many horses.”</p> +<p>“It is if you like horses. It’s a lot of work too. Most +people find two or three too much to take care of the +way they should.”</p> +<p>“Do you live in that wagon?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>“All but about three months of the year,” replied +the horse trader. “Now let me ask a question. When’s +your pa going to be home?”</p> +<p>“About five o’clock, I ’spect,” Jim informed him. +He looked at his watch. It was not quite three. He +hadn’t been in that tree nearly so long as he had +thought.</p> +<p>“Think your pa will want to trade or buy any +horses?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think so,” replied Jim. “We’ve got two +teams that are pretty good.”</p> +<p>The old man led the last horse to the trough for a +drink. It was the small brown horse that Jim had +noticed at the end of the string. It wasn’t an impressive +horse at all. It was very thin, the hip bones making +big bumps as if they were trying to push their +way through the poor horse’s hide. There was an +ugly, partially healed sore on his back, and he limped +<span class="pb" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +slightly on his right foreleg. His coat was a shaggy +lusterless gray-brown. It was hard to tell what either +the tail or mane was like as both were so matted with +cockleburs and bits of weed. Lastly, the little horse +didn’t hold his head as he should, but kept it cocked +to one side as if he were looking at something very +odd and interesting. To most horse fanciers this odd +position of the head would have been the crowning +defect of the long list, but it was just this feature +that attracted Jim. The pony seemed to be looking +at him quizzically. As Jim looked closer he was certain +he saw a twinkle in the horse’s eye as if the +animal were trying to share some sort of joke with +him.</p> +<p>Jim stopped pumping water and moved closer to +the little horse. He was so painfully thin and that +sore looked so tender that Jim felt a surge of sympathy. +He wished the horse could stay there and rest. +The object of Jim’s compassion lifted his muzzle +from the trough, shook his head, and snorted until +he had blown the water from his nostrils. Then he +looked squarely at the boy and winked. This time +Jim was certain the horse grinned too. It was very +plain what the pony meant. He seemed to say: +“Thanks for the water and your kindness. I’m rather +deceiving in appearance and am in much better +shape than most people would think.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_15">[15]</div> +<p>Walking around to look at the horse from the +other side, Jim spied a mark on the pony’s left +shoulder. It was an <i>H</i> lying on its side like this:</p> +<div class="img" id="p23"> +<img src="images/p23.jpg" alt="Letter H lying on its side" width="50" height="43" /> +</div> +<p>“That’s a brand, isn’t it?” asked the boy excitedly.</p> +<p>“Yep. I reckon that is the lazy-<i>H</i> brand.”</p> +<p>“Where did he get it?”</p> +<p>“Well, this is a Western mustang. The man I +bought him from said a carload of cow ponies was +shipped in from Texas a couple of years ago. He +picked up this feller at the sale.”</p> +<p>“A real Texas mustang,” said Jim, reverently.</p> +<p>“He’s a bit small even for a Western cow pony,” +said the trader, sitting down on the edge of the water +tank. “In fact there’s a lot of things about this horse +that are different from most mustangs.”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“Well,” drawled the old man, filling his pipe, “I’m +in no hurry to get up on that jolting seat again. Just +set here awhile and I’ll tell you a little about Western +horses, specially this one.”</p> +<p>“Swell,” said Jim enthusiastically. “Can I hold the +horse?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_16">[16]</div> +<p>The old man passed over the halter rope and Jim +sat happily on the well platform holding on to the +end of the tether. The horse looked at both of them +for a moment and then calmly started to crop the +grass.</p> +<p>“Western horses usually run pretty wild for three +years or so,” began the old man. “Then they’re +broken for riding. They break Western horses quick +and rough and most of them buck every time they’re +saddled. A ranch horse is worked only four or five +months a year and then only three or four days a +week. Most of them, except the favorites, never get +to know a man real well and so usually they don’t +show much affection.” He paused to relight his corn-cob +pipe. Reflectively he gazed on the glowing coal +and drew on the pipe stem noisily while Jim waited +impatiently.</p> +<p>“This little feller is different. Plenty of spirit, but +about as gentle a horse as I’ve ever seen. Gentle, +that is, if he likes you. In the five days I’ve had him +I can tell he’d develop a real likin’ for anybody that +treated him at all reasonable.”</p> +<p>“I’ll bet he would,” agreed Jim, looking at the +horse.</p> +<p>“He’s a good horse, but I don’t know just what I’ll +do with him. He’s not a work horse—too small for +heavy work. He’s really a saddle horse and people +in these parts don’t go much for saddle horses unless +they’re rich people. Then they want something +fancy like a Kentucky saddle horse. But I felt sorry +for this critter and I bought him.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_17">[17]</div> +<p>“Felt sorry for him? Why?” asked Jim with +great interest.</p> +<p>“He was bein’ mistreated. You can’t be a horse +trader for fifty years without becomin’ real fond of +horses. It gets you mad to see anyone treat an animal +mean. So I picked up this pony mainly to get him +away from the skunk that owned him. Look how thin +the horse is. Why I’d bet money he hasn’t had a +feedin’ of grain in the two years that man had him. +Of course, these Westerns are tough. They run wild +all winter and find feed where other breeds would +starve. But this pony was turned out in a field where +there wasn’t enough grass. Nothing to eat except +straw. That strawstack was all the shelter he had +too. You can tell from that long shaggy hair that he +was out all winter. It will take a lot of curryin’ and +plenty of oats to get that coat in shape.”</p> +<p>“You mean he was out in the snow and everything?” +asked Jim.</p> +<p>“The snow isn’t so bad. He’s probably used to that. +But when horses run loose in the winter out West, +they don’t have nothin’ else to do but hunt for feed. +This horse has been rode all winter too. See those +saddle galls?” said the trader, pointing. “They’re +recent. A horse can’t do much work on a diet of straw +and then stay outside in the cold to boot. He needs a +layer of fat to keep him warm.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_18">[18]</div> +<p>“How did he get those saddle sores?” inquired +Jim.</p> +<p>“Been saddled wrong.”</p> +<p>“They look awful sore.”</p> +<p>“They were, but they’re healing now that I’m +givin’ them a little attention. If nobody rides him for +a while, they’ll clear up all right.”</p> +<p>“He’s lame too,” pointed out Jim.</p> +<p>“Yep, nail in his foot. The owner just pulled the +nail out—nothin’ else. I was sort of takin’ a chance +buyin’ the horse at all. He might have developed +lockjaw. Once a horse gets lockjaw you might as well +shoot him. But I pared out the hoof, soaked his foot +in a lysol solution, and worked some iodine into the +puncture. I’ve given him a couple of treatments since +and he’s out of danger now. In a week you’d never +know he’d stepped on a nail.”</p> +<p>The long story of the mustang’s mistreatment and +ills had aroused Jim’s sympathy. He looked at the +horse with even greater interest than before. Several +times the little horse raised his head and appeared +to give the boy a good-natured nod. The fact +that the pony was still gentle and apparently in high +good humor after all he had been through particularly +appealed to the boy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_19">[19]</div> +<p>“How much would you sell that horse for?” he +asked impulsively.</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon he’s worth about forty dollars,” +said the old trader appraisingly.</p> +<p>“Gee,” said Jim sorrowfully. “I guess he’s worth +that all right but I only got three bucks.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid three dollars would be a mite too +cheap,” said the man laughing. “I know he looks like +three dollars now, but he’ll shape up. Feed him properly +and take care of him and you’d be surprised at +the improvement. I haven’t had time to work on his +coat or tail but a few weeks would do a lot.”</p> +<p>“How old is he?”</p> +<p>“Six years, I figure. He’s a good sound horse. You +take a good look and you’ll see that he has his better +points.”</p> +<p>It was true. On closer inspection the first bad impression +began to fade. The pony had a short barrel, +straight unblemished legs, and a deep chest. Aside +from their extreme thinness, his hind quarters were +well proportioned. Both eyes were bright, clear and +alert.</p> +<p>“He sure looks like a good horse to me,” said Jim +truthfully. He knew nothing about the finer points +of horses, but the little mustang appealed to him. He +liked the horse and that settled the matter. Naturally +he was a fine animal.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_20">[20]</div> +<p>“He is a good horse. No fancy gaited animal but +just a good sturdy ridin’ horse. Some of these days +I’ll find someone who’ll appreciate him and take good +care of him.”</p> +<p>“I’d appreciate him,” thought Jim enviously. +“And I’d take awfully good care of him.”</p> +<p>Apparently the horse read Jim’s thoughts, for he +raised his head, cocked it even farther to one side, +and stared straight at the boy. It was a friendly +look that clearly said, “Yes, I know, Jim; we’d be +good friends.”</p> +<p>Sorrowfully the boy watched the old trader tie +the mustang to the end of the string and then climb +up on his wagon. How he would like to own that +horse. A real mustang with a brand. He and that +pony certainly could have fun together.</p> +<p>The wagon turned around and started down the +lane. Jim felt as sad and lonely as if his best friend +were departing forever. If only he could have gone to +town. Then he would not have seen the little mustang +and wanted him so. He pulled out his watch. +Three-thirty. Time had passed rapidly enough while +he was looking at the mustang. Now it would drag +again. Suddenly he looked at the watch as if he were +seeing it for the first time. His grandfather’s watch—his +most prized possession. He couldn’t possibly +part with it. He raised his eyes and saw the mustang +going out the gate. Headlong he ran after the +wagon.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_21">[21]</div> +<p>“Hey, Mister! Wait a minute please!”</p> +<p>The horse trader heard the frantic cry and pulled +his team to a halt. He looked down inquiringly as +Jimmy rushed up beside him.</p> +<p>“Would you trade that mustang for my watch?” +Jim asked in a rush of words, as though afraid +that if he hesitated he would lose his nerve.</p> +<p>“Well, I might now,” answered the old man. +“What kind of a watch is it?”</p> +<p>“Here it is,” said Jim, pulling out his precious +watch. He stood on tiptoe to hand it up to the trader.</p> +<p>The old man examined the watch carefully while +Jim watched nervously. The trader held the watch +to his ear, removed the back and inspected the shiny +works.</p> +<p>“Look, son,” he said finally, “this is <i>your</i> watch, +isn’t it? Not your father’s?”</p> +<p>“It’s mine, really mine,” said Jim in desperate +eagerness to be believed. “It was given to me on my +birthday.”</p> +<p>“How about it? Would your father and mother +be mad if you traded it for a horse?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_22">[22]</div> +<p>“I don’t see why. It’s my watch,” protested Jim. +The thought made him a little uneasy. He wondered +if they would care. His resolution began to waver. +Then he looked at the mustang and his doubts vanished. +How he’d like to have that horse!</p> +<p>“Well,” drawled the old man slowly, “I got my +doubts about how this is goin’ to set with your pa. +But I know you want the horse more than you do the +watch. It wouldn’t be an uneven trade either. This +is a good watch but not an awful expensive one.”</p> +<p>“Then I can have the horse?” asked Jim in eager +anticipation.</p> +<p>“If you’re sure that’s what you want. I hate to +be the cause of any trouble though. Tell you what +I’ll do. I’ll be back by here in about three, four +months. You tell your father that. My name’s Ned +Evarts—Old Ned Evarts. In fifty years of horse +tradin’ no one has ever accused me of tellin’ a lie. +When I come back I’ll still have the watch. If you’re +not satisfied with the horse, we’ll trade back.”</p> +<p>“That sounds fair,” said Jim judiciously.</p> +<p>The trader reached inside the wagon and pulled +out a bridle.</p> +<p>“Here’s the bridle I got with the horse,” he said, +climbing down from the wagon. “You’ll need a bridle, +so I’ll throw that in. Now the horse has on a rope +halter. It doesn’t look like much but it’s sturdy. You +can have that too if you want.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, Mister,” said Jim, beginning to be overwhelmed +by all his new property.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_23">[23]</div> +<p>“Now I’ll tell you something,” said the old man. +“There is such a thing as an honest horse trader even +if people don’t think so. A trader that deals square +will tell a man about any defects that he knows of +inside the horse. About his wind, whether he has the +heaves, and things like that. Anything that shows +outside the horse, it’s up to the buyer to see. If he +can’t tell what he’s buyin’, it’s his tough luck.”</p> +<p>“This horse looks all right to me,” said Jim, stoutly +defending his new property.</p> +<p>“He is,” said the trader. “Since you’re a young +feller and haven’t had much experience tradin’, I’d +tell you if anything was wrong. This mustang hasn’t +any defects we haven’t already talked about. There’s +that saddle sore, the lame foreleg, he’s pretty lean, +and his coat needs a lot of work. Other than that he’s +sound. Now I want you to take notice of the way he +holds his head. It’s kinda cockeyed. Now lots of folks +would look at him and figure him to be a mean horse. +He isn’t. That horse isn’t a bit mean; he’s been mistreated +and he’s a little worried about whom to trust. +You be good to him and he’ll be as gentle as can be.”</p> +<p>“He’ll like me,” said Jim confidently.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_24">[24]</div> +<p>“I think he will. One other thing—that mustang +is a smart critter. Horses are like people; some are +just naturally dumb and others are smart. I’ve been +handling the animals so long I’ve kinda got a sixth +sense about ’em. Now this little feller is one of the +smartest I’ve ever run across.”</p> +<p>Evarts untied the mustang from the end of the +string and handed the rope to Jim.</p> +<p>“Well, he’s your horse. Good luck.”</p> +<p>“Good-by,” said Jim as the trader climbed back +on the wagon. “That’s a good watch too.”</p> +<p>Jim watched the wagon, with its trailing string of +horses, move off down the road. He felt a twinge of +pain as he thought of his beloved watch slowly moving +into the distance. Then he felt a tug on the rope +he held. The horse was looking at him quizzically.</p> +<p>“No, I’m not sorry I traded,” said Jim, as if in +answer to a question. “But I’m going to miss that +watch. I know what I’m going to do. I’ll call you +‘Ticktock’ after my watch.”</p> +<h2 id="c2"><br />Chapter Two +<br />The Reception</h2> +<p>After tying Ticktock to the orchard fence, Jim +stepped back and regarded his property with +admiration. Ownership had caused the +mustang to take on new beauty in the eyes of the +boy. There were so many things to be done that Jim +was uncertain where to start. He had to feed the +pony, comb out his mane and tail, give him a good +grooming and do something about that saddle sore. +After much thought, Jim finally decided the most +important and most enjoyable thing to do was to +win his horse’s confidence. He ran happily into the +house and down the cellar stairs. There were still a +few apples left, he knew from frequent trips to the +barrel.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_25">[25]</div> +<p>“Here you are, Ticktock,” he said, returning with +an apple. “It’s a winesap and no worms in it either.”</p> +<p>Cutting the apple in half, he carefully removed the +core and offered one-half in his outstretched hand. +Ticktock moved forward cautiously. After a few +moments of doubtful sniffing, he picked the apple +delicately from the boy’s outstretched palm. He ate +it with obvious relish.</p> +<p>“Liked it, didn’t you?” asked Jim, getting more +pleasure than if he had eaten the apple himself.</p> +<p>Ticktock didn’t reply. He stuck his head forward +and sniffed at Jim’s other hand.</p> +<p>“Say, you’re pretty smart,” said Jim admiringly, +as he gave the pony the remainder of the apple. “You +know there’s two halves to an apple.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_26">[26]</div> +<p>By this time Jim felt confident enough to begin +stroking the mustang’s head. Next he gently +scratched the horse’s ears. He knew dogs liked their +ears scratched, so why not horses? Ticktock didn’t +seem to mind, for he stood patiently. Jim had progressed +as far as the neck when there was an interruption. +Colonel Flesher drove in the yard in his little +truck. The fleshy stock buyer climbed out of his car +and walked toward the boy.</p> +<p>“Good afternoon, Colonel,” said Jim, glad to see +the visitor. Now here was a man who would appreciate +the finer points of a beautiful horse. “Come see +my mustang.”</p> +<div class="img" id="p26"> +<img src="images/p26.jpg" alt="Selling a mustang" width="500" height="207" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_27">[27]</div> +<p>“Mustang, eh?” asked Colonel Flesher jovially.</p> +<p>“Yep. A real Western. Isn’t he a beauty?”</p> +<p>Colonel Flesher looked at the little horse doubtfully. +He pursed his lips searching for the right thing +to say. The boy’s enthusiasm left no doubt as to +what sort of answer was expected.</p> +<p>“Well, he’s a bit thin yet to be called a beauty,” he +said, evading nicely.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_28">[28]</div> +<p>“He may be a little thin,” admitted Jim unwillingly, +“but I’ll fix that up in no time. He’s a Texas +ranch horse.”</p> +<p>“That so?” asked the colonel, glad to be off the +subject of the mustang’s appearance. “Where’d you +get him?”</p> +<p>“Traded a gold watch for him. I made a fine deal. +He’s worth a lot more than a gold watch, isn’t he?”</p> +<p>“Well, that all depends on the watch,” answered +the stock buyer cautiously. “There are all sorts of +watches you know, some cheap, some valuable.”</p> +<p>“I’ve never seen a watch that was worth half as +much as this horse,” said Jim hotly, realizing that +Colonel Flesher wasn’t too enthusiastic about Ticktock.</p> +<p>“Hm-m-m, well,” hedged the colonel, trying to be +truthful and still not hurt the boy’s feelings.</p> +<p>“You wait,” said Jim confidently. “Wait until I +get him spruced up a bit; then you’ll see. He’s probably +the smartest horse in the whole state.”</p> +<p>“That could be true enough,” said the stock buyer, +glad to find something on which they could agree. +“I’d like to spend more time looking at him, son; but +I’m in a big hurry. Can you tell me where the calf is +that I bought from your father?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_29">[29]</div> +<p>Jim led the calf out of the barn and over to the +truck. The two carried a small stock chute to the +back of the truck. By dint of much pushing, pulling +and coaxing, the calf was finally loaded.</p> +<p>“Here’s the fifteen dollars for the calf,” said the +colonel. “Thanks a lot for helping me.”</p> +<p>Jim returned to his horse. Colonel Flesher’s lack +of approval didn’t bother him in the least. He +shrugged his shoulders. After all the stock buyer +bought cows largely, and probably wasn’t able to see +Ticktock’s wonderful qualities. He went out to the +barn for a curry comb and brush. Now he hoped his +family wouldn’t be back for hours. He had visions +of the mustang looking like a show horse by the time +they returned.</p> +<p>Currying Ticktock turned out to be a much bigger +job than Jim had anticipated. After the first ten +minutes he sadly conceded that it would be a matter +of weeks instead of hours before he could have the +pony’s coat sleek and glistening. He tried unsuccessfully +to comb out a few strands of the matted mane +and gave up. Instead he started to work on a shoulder—that +looked easier. After twenty minutes of +hard work, he was resting his tired arms when the +family drove in the yard. Jim ran excitedly over to +the car, jumping on the running board as the car +stopped.</p> +<p>Since the driver’s seat was on the side toward the +orchard, Mr. Meadows saw the mustang first.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_30">[30]</div> +<p>“Where did that nag come from?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Nag!” said Jim, astounded. “Why that’s a real +Texas cow pony with a brand and everything.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Carl Meadows, grinning at his +son. “Where did that real Texas cow pony come +from?”</p> +<p>“I traded for him,” said Jim proudly.</p> +<p>“You did what?”</p> +<p>“Traded for him.”</p> +<p>“Traded what?” asked Jim’s father.</p> +<p>“My gold watch. I got the horse, a halter and a +bridle, all for my watch.”</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows said nothing, but the grin vanished. +Very slowly and grimly he got out of the car and +walked toward the horse. Mrs. Meadows and Jean +followed, all gathering in front of the mustang. +Ticktock stopped grazing and looked up inquiringly +at his suddenly large audience.</p> +<p>“You traded your grandfather’s gold watch for +<i>that</i>,” Mr. Meadows asked finally, with a contemptuous +wave of his hand toward the horse.</p> +<p>“Uh-uh.” Jim sensed that matters were rapidly +becoming difficult, so he tried to ease the situation +as much as he could. “He’s the smartest horse you +ever saw.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_31">[31]</div> +<p>“I don’t know how smart the horse is,” said his +father, “but I’m beginning to have some doubts +about you, Jim. I gave you that watch because I +thought you would take care of it and appreciate it.”</p> +<p>“But I did appreciate it!” cried Jim in a hurt +voice.</p> +<p>“Not enough, apparently, to prevent you from +trading it off for a broken-down piece of horseflesh.”</p> +<p>“He isn’t broken-down,” replied Jim, coming to +the defense of Ticktock. “He’s a beautiful horse.”</p> +<p>“Well I’ll be—”</p> +<p>“Carl!” said Mrs. Meadows sharply.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s enough to make a man swear,” said +Mr. Meadows. “Jim, who palmed this crazy-looking +nag off on you? I’m going to take it back and get +your watch back.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to trade back,” cried Jim. “I want to +keep Ticktock.”</p> +<p>“Who was it?” repeated his father. Mr. Meadows’ +usually good-natured expression was replaced by one +of angry determination. Jim knew he had best +answer the question.</p> +<p>“A traveling horse trader named Ned Evarts,” +he replied.</p> +<p>“A traveling horse trader!” shouted Mr. Meadows, +grabbing his head in his hands in despair. “That is +the last straw. There’s no telling where the rascal is +now. Still, I’m so disgusted that I’ve half a mind to +phone the sheriff to see if the man can be located.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_32">[32]</div> +<p>“Don’t do that, Dad,” Jim pleaded. “He asked me +if I was sure it would be all right with you.”</p> +<p>“Well that is about as low a piece of swindling as +I’ve ever encountered,” said the older man, “taking +advantage of a boy!”</p> +<p>“He wasn’t a swindler. Besides, he said he’d be +back this fall and if I wasn’t satisfied, he’d trade +back.”</p> +<p>“Back this fall,” scoffed his father. “Why he’ll +have that watch in the first pawn shop he finds. He’s +probably laughing now at how he got rid of such a +broken-down old plug.”</p> +<p>Miserable as he was, Jim was not going to let anyone +make remarks about Ticktock. “He isn’t broken-down +and he isn’t old either. Only six years old.”</p> +<p>“Six years old!” said Mr. Meadows scornfully. +“Why he’s closer to sixteen. Did you look at his +teeth?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll show you something about your valuable +horse!” said Carl Meadows, advancing toward Ticktock.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_33">[33]</div> +<p>The mustang had been watching and listening to +the argument with interest. He couldn’t understand +the words, but there was little else that he missed. +The frequent looks of contempt that Carl Meadows +had given him hadn’t passed unnoticed. Ticktock +was a horse of considerable independence. He wanted +people to like him, but if they didn’t, he wasted little +time in trying to win their favor. Affection was a +two-way affair with him. Mrs. Meadows and Jean +were neutral and puzzled respectively, so Ticktock +reserved judgment on them. But the mustang definitely +did not like the tall man. When Mr. Meadows +reached out confidently to open his jaws, Ticktock +promptly took a nip at one of the outstretched hands. +It wasn’t a savage bite—just a moderate bite, as the +mustang didn’t hate the strange man. He merely +didn’t want to be handled by anyone who disliked +him. However, the nip was enough to take the skin +off one finger and draw blood.</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows jerked his arm back and really cursed +this time. He shook the injured hand and glared +with hatred at the pony.</p> +<p>“That settles it. That mean-tempered beast has +got to go. I won’t have a vicious horse on my place. +The next thing you know he will kill someone.”</p> +<p>Jim was very alarmed at the accident. He hadn’t +expected outright approval of his trade, but he certainly +had not anticipated such violent opposition. +Now the biting had climaxed the situation. He felt +sorry about his father’s injured hand but somehow +he knew how Ticktock felt and was in sympathy with +him too.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_34">[34]</div> +<p>“He isn’t vicious, Dad. He’s just not used to you. +Look here.”</p> +<p>Before his father could stop him, Jim stepped forward +and took hold of Ticktock’s muzzle. He opened +the mustang’s mouth easily.</p> +<p>“Want to see his teeth?”</p> +<p>“No thank you. I’ve felt them; that’s enough.” Mr. +Meadows was a very tolerant man, but he was +human and had a streak of stubbornness. He had +taken his stand and was not going to back down. +“I’ve said all I’m going to say about that horse. +Come help me get the groceries out of the car.”</p> +<p>All through the chores Jim and his father maintained +strict silence about the mustang. Jim performed +his routine work from habit, for his mind +was busy with its overwhelming burden of misery. +After the chores he went quietly in the house and +washed for supper. During the meal he sat abjectly +staring at his plate, eating scarcely anything. Mr. +Meadows could not help noticing his son’s misery; +but Jim’s father was angry and determined, so he +too sat in tight-lipped silence. Mrs. Meadows maintained +her stand of complete neutrality. That left +only Jean, who had forgotten the argument and just +wondered why everyone was so silent.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_35">[35]</div> +<p>After supper Mr. Meadows went into the living +room. Jim waited a few minutes and then followed, +determined to make another attempt to change his +father’s stand. Mr. Meadows had always been very +reasonable before. Jim’s mother left the dishes and +went in the living room also, fearing a peacemaker +might be needed.</p> +<p>“Look, Dad,” said Jim, trying to approach the +subject gradually, “there’s an empty stall in the +barn.”</p> +<p>“I said the horse was not going to stay,” said Mr. +Meadows. “I simply will not waste feed on a useless, +mean-tempered horse.”</p> +<p>“He won’t use any feed,” Jim pointed out. “Just +grass.”</p> +<p>“In the winter there is snow covering the grass,” +said the older man dryly.</p> +<p>“I’ll earn money this summer to feed him through +the winter!” declared Jim confidently. “Besides, I +already have three dollars.”</p> +<p>He reached in his pocket to make certain he still +had his precious three dollars. His hand found the +fifteen that Colonel Flesher had paid for the calf. In +the excitement he had forgotten to give the money to +his father.</p> +<p>“Here’s the fifteen dollars Colonel Flesher gave +me for the calf.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_36">[36]</div> +<p>Mr. Meadows pocketed the money. “It’s a good +thing he didn’t come before the horse trader, or you +probably would have thrown in the fifteen dollars +with the watch.”</p> +<p>“I would not,” said Jim bitterly. He was now even +more hurt than before. “The money wasn’t mine but +the watch was. You gave it to me.”</p> +<p>Everything seemed to mount up in Jim’s mind. +He had felt like shedding tears several times since +his family’s return, but he was no crybaby and had +held them back. Now once again he began to choke +up dangerously; so he started to leave the room.</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows began to be somewhat sorry about +his last words. He realized that in his anger he had +spoken rather hastily, and he saw his son was deeply +hurt.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, Jim,” he said finally and rather awkwardly. +“I shouldn’t have said that. I know you +would never be dishonest or trade off anything that +didn’t belong to you. I did give you the watch and it +was your property. It’s just that I attached a lot of +sentiment to the watch and thought you would too.”</p> +<p class="tb">Mrs. Meadows had been weighing the problem all +evening. She hadn’t been too favorably impressed by +Ticktock, but she knew with a mother’s instinct how +precious the rawboned pony was to her son. Now +that her husband was in a slightly more softened +mood she decided to strike.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_37">[37]</div> +<p>“Carl, come in the kitchen a few minutes,” she +said.</p> +<p>As Jim waited anxiously, he could hear low voices +coming from the kitchen. He knew his parents as +well as they knew him and suspected that his mother +was coming to his rescue. When his parents returned +to the living room, Mrs. Meadows was looking determined +and a trifle triumphant, while her husband +was embarrassedly trying to look indulgent. Jim +sat up expectantly.</p> +<p>“Your mother and I have talked over this matter,” +announced Mr. Meadows. “We’ve decided to +arrive at a compromise with you. You can keep the +horse this summer providing he isn’t too mean and +causes no trouble. But this fall he goes. I will not +feed him through the winter.”</p> +<p>“Hurrah!” shouted Jim and dashed out of the +house.</p> +<p>When you are not quite thirteen a summer is a +lifetime. The fall seemed a million years away—a +tiny cloud away over on the horizon. Why school +hadn’t even ended for the summer as yet. Jim went +up to where Ticktock stood, still tied to the orchard +fence. He stroked the mustang’s head and told him +the good news.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_38">[38]</div> +<p>“It’s all set, Ticktock. You can stay. We’ve got +the whole summer together. You’re going to get fat +and really like it here. Now don’t mind if Dad +doesn’t seem to like you. He’s really an awful nice +Dad. It’s just that grown-ups don’t understand a lot +of things. You sorta have to make allowances for +them. We’ll show everybody what a good horse you +are. Only if we’re going to make a good impression +you can’t go around biting people.”</p> +<p>The mustang took the good news very calmly.</p> +<p>“Come on, old boy; I’ll show you your new stall. +It might rain tonight and we don’t want you to +catch cold.”</p> +<h2 id="c3"><br />Chapter Three +<br />The First Victory</h2> +<p>The next few weeks were busy ones for Jim. +School took most of the day, while after school +there were chores to do. Since Mr. Meadows +maintained his hostile attitude toward the mustang, +Jim was very careful not to shirk any of his farm +work in order to spend additional time on Ticktock. +In spite of the full schedule, he managed to spend an +hour or two on his pony each day. He went over the +pony’s coat for an exhausting hour every evening +and worked on the matted tail and mane. A few +applications of methylene blue to the saddle sores +caused them to start healing, while the remaining +lameness quickly disappeared.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_39">[39]</div> +<p>The first week-end Jim laboriously put in an entire +new floor in Ticktock’s stall. He carried fresh +clay from a hill on the other side of the farm and +packed it firmly over the floor of the stall. He kept +the pony’s quarters scrupulously clean and filled with +fresh straw for bedding.</p> +<p>While Jim was at school, the little horse cropped +busily at the spring grass and waited for his master’s +return. He sensed that Jim was the only member +of the family who was ready to lavish affection +on him. Mr. Meadows’ hostility was quite open and +apparent. Jim’s mother, while at least neutral, was +seldom seen by the horse. As for Jean, Ticktock +hadn’t quite made up his mind. Jim’s little sister +hadn’t decided whether to be scornful of the horse +or to like him as she did all the other animals around +the farm.</p> +<p>Under the circumstances it was not strange that +the mustang welcomed Jim home from school each +afternoon, particularly since the reunion usually +meant an apple. The little pony had never had anyone +really love him before and he was quick to respond. +Like most horses, the mustang had always +wanted to be close friends with some man. While the +cow hands on the range had treated him well, no +one had ever singled him out for any particular +attention. He had been roped, saddled and worked. +That was the beginning and end of his ranch existence. +Perhaps his very gentleness had kept him from +notice, as many cowboys preferred a rather wild and +unmanageable horse. Ticktock didn’t lack spirit. He +simply didn’t see any sense in bucking and kicking +up a fuss.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_40">[40]</div> +<p>It was three days before Jim ventured to ride his +horse. He examined the saddle sores and decided +they were not too tender and that he could avoid +sitting on them. He put on the bridle for the first +time and led Ticktock up beside a small platform by +the feed shed. Gingerly he climbed on the pony’s bare +back. Mrs. Meadows, unobserved, watched nervously +from the kitchen window. Secretly she thought the +mustang looked somewhat mean-tempered, but she +kept silent. Her fears were unfounded, for the pony +stood calmly while Jim climbed awkwardly on his +back. The horse craned his head around as if to make +certain his rider was firmly seated and then stood +waiting for orders.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_41">[41]</div> +<p>Jim sat puzzled for a moment. He had ridden +their broad-backed farm horses many times, but this +was different. He had heard somewhere you never +clicked to a saddle horse—and he wanted to do things +right. You said “giddap” to a work horse, but that +sounded a little undignified for a Western ranch +horse. Finally he just pressed with his knees, lifted +the reins and said: “O.K., Ticktock, let’s go.” The +pony seemed to understand, for he started off at a +brisk walk. Once outside the yard gate, Jim gave +another press of the knees and they were off at a +trot. It wasn’t a very comfortable trot, as jolting +along bareback on a spine as prominent as Ticktock’s +still was, couldn’t possibly be anything but +painful. But Jim enjoyed every moment. As he was +still being careful of the pony’s tender foot, he rode +him only a short distance down the road. The return +trip was made at a full gallop. Ticktock was not +slow, so the horse and rider made a triumphant +entry into the yard.</p> +<p>As Jim slid off there was no doubt in his mind +that Ticktock was the fastest as well as the finest +horse in the world.</p> +<p>After the first trial, Jim went for a daily ride, +each one growing longer. He led the horse into the +yard, took the bridle over to the platform, gave a +shrill whistle, and Ticktock would trot up to be +bridled and mounted. Then they would go dashing +off down the road, chasing rustlers, carrying the +mail, or acting out whatever happened to be the +current daydream.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_42">[42]</div> +<p>Springdale no longer held any fascination for +Jim. Saturdays were too precious to be wasted in +town. There were too many odd jobs to be done. He +repaired Ticktock’s feedbox, and built a rack for a +bucket in one corner of the stall. He wasn’t going +to ask anyone to water his horse when he was away, +and he had no intention of letting the pony be +thirsty.</p> +<p>The second Saturday after Ticktock’s arrival, Jim +was lying on the front porch resting from his labors. +He munched on a cookie and gazed contentedly at his +horse. Ticktock was in the front yard grazing. The +regular pasture didn’t seem quite luxuriant enough +to Jim. Besides he planned to ride any moment now +and wanted his horse near. The orchard would have +been the ideal spot but the bull was again occupying +that area. The boy thought about the bull and +frowned.</p> +<p>Jim wasn’t the only one who disliked the bull, for +Mrs. Meadows was very nervous concerning the big +red animal. She was also home this particular Saturday. +Her last words to her husband, before he and +Jean left for town, had been about the mean-tempered +bull.</p> +<p>“Carl, I wish you’d see Colonel Flesher and sell +that ugly brute. When I stay home without you +I’m always afraid that he’ll get loose.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_43">[43]</div> +<p>“I’ll get rid of him this fall,” Mr. Meadows had +said, laughing. “He’s safe enough in the orchard and +I’m certain there’s nothing you’ll want in there +today.”</p> +<p>Jim lay thinking about the time he had been +trapped in the tree. He was still angry about that +and wished he could think of some way of evening +the score. Besides, that orchard would certainly make +a nice private pasture for the horse. Grazing in the +yard was not too satisfactory. His mother had objected +at first on the grounds that Ticktock would +eat or trample her flowers. They had finally compromised +by agreeing that the mustang could graze +on the strip between the drive and the orchard fence. +As Jim disliked tethering his horse, he had to watch +carefully; but it was worth it. The pony was near +and each mouthful he ate was that much less lawn +to be mowed.</p> +<p>Jim was turning over the weighty problem of +whether to go for a ride now or to try arguing his +mother out of another cookie, when he noticed the +bull coming through the orchard gate. Either the +gate had been insecurely fastened or else the latch +had been broken. He jumped to his feet in alarm.</p> +<p>“Mother, the bull’s loose!” he shouted.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_44">[44]</div> +<p>His mother came through the door onto the porch +just as Jim started down the steps. She made a +frantic grab and caught her son by his overall suspenders. +She pulled him, kicking and struggling, +back to the center of the porch.</p> +<p>“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Ticktock is in the yard,” pointed out Jim, almost +beside himself with fear for his precious +horse.</p> +<p>“The bull won’t bother a horse,” Jim’s mother +reassured him.</p> +<p>“He will too!” cried Jim. “I saw a movie of a bull-fight +and bulls sometimes kill horses.”</p> +<p>“Nevertheless, you are staying right here,” said +Mrs. Meadows firmly. “If anybody gets hurt, it is +not going to be you. Besides, Ticktock is a ranch +pony. He can take care of himself.”</p> +<p>The bull took a long curious look at the mustang +who continued to graze peacefully. Ordinarily the +bull stayed clear of the large work horses but the +pony looked small enough to intimidate. He gave several +snorts and began to paw with his front foot. +Ticktock just went on grazing, ignoring the bull +completely. The big animal lowered his head and +prepared to rush. Jim squirmed and struggled in +another attempt to get free but his mother now +had him by the arm and showed no intention of +letting him go. Jim wasn’t quite certain what he +could do if he were free. All he could think of was +that his pony was in danger.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_45">[45]</div> +<p>“He’s going to rush!” he shouted.</p> +<p>“You couldn’t stop him,” said his mother. She +too began to wonder about the mustang’s safety.</p> +<p>The bull lunged forward, gathering speed as he +went. His short legs worked furiously, like pistons +in a racing engine. Just as he seemed certain to +smash into the pony’s side, Ticktock jerked his head +up and made a quick wheeling movement. The bull +rushed past harmlessly.</p> +<p>“There!” said Mrs. Meadows, with a huge sigh +of relief. “Ticktock can take care of himself.”</p> +<p>“I guess he’s too smart for an old bull,” said Jim +with more confidence than he really felt.</p> +<p>The bull turned around and was pawing again. +After his experience in the orchard, Jim was well +acquainted with the ugly animal’s tactics.</p> +<p>“Look out, Ticktock!” he shouted.</p> +<p>The mustang needed no warning. He was watching +the bull with a quizzical look. He seemed amazed, +as if he couldn’t quite believe that a “cow critter” +could possibly be stupid enough to try any tricks on +a smart ranch pony like himself. He cocked his head +and stood waiting as if he were saying, “I’ll just +wait and see if this is really true. Maybe I just +imagined that bull was rushing at me.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_46">[46]</div> +<div class="img" id="p46"> +<img src="images/p46.jpg" alt="Bull and pony fighting" width="500" height="287" /> +</div> +<p>The bull rushed all right. He came ploughing +across the yard like a freight train, the driving +hooves taking huge chunks out of the smooth green +sod. Ticktock calmly and neatly side-stepped. He decided +this time that he hadn’t been mistaken. The +bull was actually trying to scare <i>him</i>. The whole +thing was ridiculous. As the bull came charging +back the third time the pony decided he had enough +of such foolishness. He wheeled sharply when the +animal was a few feet away. As the bull roared past, +Ticktock lashed out sharply with both hind feet. +Running the open range as a colt had taught the +mustang how to use his only weapons, his feet. He +had learned well, as the bull now discovered. Ticktock +planted a firm kick squarely on the fat side +of the big red animal. The bull, almost knocked over +by the force of the blow, gave a loud bellow of pain +and surprise. Jim jumped up and down on the front +porch, cheering as if at a boxing match.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_47">[47]</div> +<p>“Sock him, Ticktock; let him have it!”</p> +<p>By now Ticktock had his ears back and his teeth +bared. He stood watching the bull, willing to give +him another lesson. The bull, however, needed no +more instruction. He promptly dropped all ideas +regarding the little pony, moving a respectful distance +away. Snorting in baffled rage and disappointment, +he walked across the yard and began +pawing furiously in the flower beds.</p> +<p>“My flowers,” moaned Mrs. Meadows. “Now I +know that bull is going to be sold. I could kill him +with my bare hands.”</p> +<p>“I’ll chase him out,” volunteered Jim.</p> +<p>“No you don’t. You are still staying here,” insisted +Jim’s mother.</p> +<p>Jim gave a whistle. “Come here, Ticktock.”</p> +<p>The mustang trotted up to the porch. Jim climbed +on confidently. He had no bridle but he was long +since past the point where he needed reins to make +his wishes known to the pony. He rode over to the +nearest tree and broke off a substantial switch.</p> +<p>“Come on, boy; after the bull.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_48">[48]</div> +<p>Ticktock went after the big animal. Cutting steers +out of herds, chasing back strays, and all such maneuvers +were old routine with him. He needed few +directions; all he required was to know where Jim +wanted the bull to go. They turned the animal back +and, after a few trys, chased him through the orchard +gate.</p> +<p>Once inside, Jim gave the defeated and lumbering +bull a triumphant swat with his switch. The big +beast broke into a reluctant run. Shouting and +waving his arms like a wild cowboy, Jim chased the +vanquished bull to the far end of the orchard.</p> +<p>When finally there was no place farther to go, +he relented. Returning, he fastened the gate securely +and slid off Ticktock.</p> +<p>“You’re the bravest and smartest horse in the +world, Ticktock. I’m going to get you something for +a reward.”</p> +<p>Jim swaggered into the kitchen, trying to walk +as he thought a bow-legged cowboy would.</p> +<p>“Ticktock is really a smart horse, isn’t he, Mom?”</p> +<p>“He seems to be very intelligent,” admitted his +mother.</p> +<p>“We can handle that bull all right,” boasted Jim. +“Why we can chase him all over.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_49">[49]</div> +<p>“I noticed you did,” said Mrs. Meadows dryly. “I +don’t say he didn’t deserve it this time, but don’t +make a practice of chasing him. That bull is going +to be sold and there is no use running the fat off +him.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, we won’t run him,” protested Jim. “But +any time you want him handled, just call on us.”</p> +<p>“All right,” laughed his mother. “Now go get the +apple you were planning on asking for. And you can +have a cookie for yourself.”</p> +<p>“One down,” said Jim as he gave Ticktock his +apple. “Mom’s all for you. We’ll show the others too. +You wait. If only you hadn’t taken that bite at +Dad.”</p> +<p>The mustang stopped munching long enough to +grin.</p> +<h2 id="c4"><br />Chapter Four +<br />New Allies</h2> +<div class="pb" id="Page_50">[50]</div> +<p>By the time school was over for the summer, +Ticktock had filled out considerably. His hip +bones no longer appeared as if they were +about to poke through his hide, his neck was less +scrawny, and his backbone, though visible, no longer +resembled the ridgepole of a tent. Jim could ride +him bareback without the painful discomfort of the +first few weeks. While the daily grooming had improved +the pony’s coat a good deal, there were still +patches that were far from satisfactory. Over all, +the horse presented a rather mottled appearance. +As some of the snarls in the pony’s tail proved too +much for Jim’s patience, they had been removed by +means of scissors. The result was rather weird—some +strands were long and flowing while others +were short and ragged. The mane was likewise irregular. +Jim couldn’t bring himself to clip the mane +short, as all the cowboys’ horses he had ever seen +in the movies had long manes. So again he had +clipped where he couldn’t untangle, ending up with +a mane that resembled a comb with half the teeth +missing. But at any rate the horse was free of +burrs.</p> +<p>There was no questioning the mustang’s health or +vitality. He frisked about like a colt, showing that +his wiry constitution hadn’t suffered permanently +from his past mistreatment. Since to Jim the horse +had appeared beautiful in his original state, by +now he was the embodiment of all that was perfect +in horseflesh. Ticktock ran to meet the boy each time +he appeared, even though it might be ten times a +day. It had become second nature to obey the boy’s +whistle. The two were on a perfect basis of friendship +and understanding.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_51">[51]</div> +<p>A few days after the summer vacation began, Jim +hung on the orchard fence, deep in thought. The summer +was just beginning, but he hadn’t forgotten 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 +the mustang as much as possible and when he did +have to notice the pony, his eyes contained as much +dislike as ever.</p> +<p>Something had to be done, decided Jim. Perhaps +he could think of some way to earn money. If he +could get enough money to pay for Ticktock’s feed +for the winter, his father’s chief objection would be +overcome. Then with his 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 many jobs a boy could do on a farm that +brought in cash. Certainly there was plenty of work, +but you did that anyway and didn’t expect pay. Now +a boy in town could deliver papers, cut the neighbors’ +lawns and run errands. Here on the farm it +was different. Of course you could pick wild blackberries +and huckleberries and sell them, but it would +be some time before either were ripe and he couldn’t +afford to wait. No, things were tough. Now he knew +why boys left the farm. Feeling discouraged he went +into the house to see if there was something to eat +that would take his mind off his troubles.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_52">[52]</div> +<p>“Jimmy,” said Mrs. Meadows, as her son ambled +into the kitchen, “You won’t get that cake I promised. +I forgot to get any vanilla extract when I was +in town.”</p> +<p>“Gee,” said Jim disappointedly. Things certainly +were tough. He sat thinking a few minutes.</p> +<p>“Look, Mom,” he said brightening, “I’ll just ride +into town and get the extract. It won’t take long.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Meadows looked at her son’s eager face for +a moment and then gave her permission. “All right. +But you be careful of the cars when you get in town. +Motorists don’t expect cowboys on mustangs to ride +through the streets.”</p> +<p>“Anything else you need at the store?”</p> +<p>“How are you going to carry anything? You have +to have your hands free for the reins.”</p> +<p>“I’ll take a burlap bag, put the things in it and +then hang it across Ticktock’s back,” said Jim with +decision. At least if this errand didn’t earn any +money it would prove to his mother that Ticktock +was useful. And then a cake wasn’t to be sneezed at.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_53">[53]</div> +<p>Jim and Ticktock jogged contentedly into town, +enjoying the warm sunshine. Arriving at the town’s +sleepy main street, Jim looked around thoughtfully. +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 the reins over +the plug. Perfect, he decided. He could use the fire +plug to climb back up on Ticktock when he returned.</p> +<p>Mrs. Meadows had made quite a list of groceries, +so Jim was gone some time. Also he made no effort +to hurry away from the store, as it was his first +visit to town since he had acquired Ticktock. He +stood by the coffee grinder and inhaled the wonderful +odor of freshly ground coffee while Mr. Higgins +served the two customers ahead of him. Finally he +got his groceries, carefully stowing them in the burlap +bag so the weight would be equally distributed +between the two ends. He tied the bag but stuck +the bottle of extract in his shirt pocket for greater +safety.</p> +<p>Carrying the bag of groceries over his shoulder, +Jim returned to his steed. The town constable, his +star shining brightly on his blue denim shirt, was +standing by the fire plug eyeing the mustang with +angry disapproval.</p> +<p>“This your horse?” the constable asked as Jim +approached.</p> +<p>“Sure is,” said Jim proudly.</p> +<p>“What do you mean tying him to a fire plug?” +demanded Constable Whittaker.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_54">[54]</div> +<p>“I couldn’t find any other place to tie him,” explained +Jim reasonably.</p> +<p>Robert Morgan, the younger of Springdale’s two +lawyers, came strolling by at this moment. He +stopped to listen to the conversation and to examine +Jim’s horse.</p> +<p>“Well, you can’t tie him to a fire plug,” said the +constable. “It’s against the law.”</p> +<p>“Where will I tie him?” asked Jim. “I’m in town +on business and I’ve gotta leave my horse somewhere.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know where you’ll tie him, but fire plugs +are out. Why I could throw you in jail for this.” +Whittaker fingered his star, looking at Jim threateningly.</p> +<p>Jim began to be decidedly frightened. Desperately +he tried to think of something to say.</p> +<p>“Don’t believe you could, Whit,” said Robert Morgan +with a grin as he entered the argument. “I was +reading the town ordinances last night. It’s against +the law to park a car within fifteen feet of a fire +plug but I don’t remember a word being mentioned +about horses. You wouldn’t have a leg to stand on +in court.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean this kid can tie his nag to a fire +plug and get away with it?” demanded the big constable +irritably.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_55">[55]</div> +<p>Ticktock, in the meantime, had been watching the +argument intently. He hadn’t cared for the way +Whittaker had glared at him during Jim’s absence. +The horse could sense when anyone disapproved of +him and was quick to reciprocate. He had about +decided he didn’t like the constable before any conversation +started. During the argument he kept +glancing back and forth between Jim and the huge +law officer. He had no idea what it was all about but +he could see that Jim was becoming frightened. As +it was 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 his hind quarters +were close to the curb and pointed in the proper +direction. After looking over his shoulder to see if +Whittaker were at the proper range, Ticktock laid +his ears back and a mean glint flickered in his +eyes.</p> +<p>“Look out!” yelled Morgan. He pulled Whittaker +back just in time, as Ticktock lashed out with his +left hind leg.</p> +<p>“You not only haven’t a leg to stand on,” said +Morgan, roaring with laughter, “but you won’t be +able to sit down for a week if you argue with this +boy while his horse is around!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_56">[56]</div> +<p>By this time there were a dozen onlookers present, +all laughing at the embarrassed constable. The +latter, however, refused to join in the merriment. +He stood glaring at Ticktock.</p> +<p>“You leave that horse on the main street again +and I’ll arrest him for being a menace to the public +health and safety,” the constable threatened Jim +angrily.</p> +<p>“I don’t think you can arrest a horse,” pointed +out the persistent Morgan, who was enjoying himself +tormenting the law officer. “Besides, you can’t +quarter a horse in the town jail. It would be unsanitary.”</p> +<p>At this wisecrack the bystanders became hilarious. +One man was busily jotting down notes on the +back of a letter.</p> +<p>“Nevertheless, don’t let me see this horse alone +on the main street,” warned Whittaker. He strode +off, red and angry.</p> +<p>“Thanks a lot, Mister,” said Jim to the lawyer. +He was glad the argument was over.</p> +<p>“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 legal advice +come to me.”</p> +<p>“I will,” promised Jim seriously. “But I’m not +planning on getting into trouble if I can help it. +My father wouldn’t like it—and then I can’t afford +a lawyer.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_57">[57]</div> +<p>“There are no charges,” said Morgan laughing. +“Just between you and me, I wouldn’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.”</p> +<p>“Tell you what,” said the man who had been taking +notes. “You can leave your horse in back of my +newspaper office whenever you want. You ride him +around there now and I’ll show you where you can +tie him. Then I’d like to get your name and a few +details if you don’t mind.”</p> +<p>Jim rode Ticktock around to the alley to a small +green plot in back of the newspaper building. The +editor and Robert Morgan were waiting for him +there.</p> +<p>“Tie him to that tree,” said the editor, “and come +on inside for a minute.”</p> +<p>Jim dismounted and followed his new friends inside. +He looked curiously at the presses and linotype +machines. He would like to have examined the machines +more carefully but the two men went directly +into a small office with the label “Editor-in-Chief” +written on the door.</p> +<p>“Have a chair,” offered the editor. “My name is +Arnold, Bill Arnold.”</p> +<p>“Glad to meet you,” said Jim politely. “I’m Jim +Meadows.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_58">[58]</div> +<p>“I just want to get down a few facts for the +<i>Gazette</i>,” said Arnold. “What is your horse’s name?”</p> +<p>“Ticktock.”</p> +<p>“That’s an odd name,” observed Arnold.</p> +<p>“I called him that because I traded my watch for +him.”</p> +<p>The editor seemed genuinely interested, so Jim +told him about the mustang. The boy had been longing +to find someone who really wanted to hear about +Ticktock’s merits, so he became very enthusiastic. +He described how he had traded for the pony and +how quickly the horse had learned. Very carefully +he avoided mentioning that his father had been +angry and was not going to permit him to keep +Ticktock permanently.</p> +<p>“Thank you very much,” said Arnold when he +had finished taking notes. “Watch for the <i>Gazette</i> +on Thursday. Ticktock will be in it. Now I think we +all ought to adjourn to the café and have some ice +cream and a coke.”</p> +<p>Jim approved of that idea heartily, so the three +went across the street to the café. They joined a +tall lanky man who was seated in a booth drinking +coffee.</p> +<p>“This is Doc Cornby,” said Arnold. “Doc, I want +you to meet a young horseman friend of mine, Jim +Meadows.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_59">[59]</div> +<p>“How do you do, Jim,” said Dr. Cornby gravely, +shaking hands.</p> +<p>“Bob has just been acting as legal counsel for +Jim,” continued the editor. “He saved Jim’s horse +from the law and also the law from Jim’s horse. +For details read your local newspaper when it arrives +on the stands Thursday.”</p> +<p>“Doc is a good man to know,” said Morgan to Jim. +“He’s the best as well as the only veterinary in town. +If there’s anything wrong with your horse, call on +him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Ticktock’s healthy,” said Jim, “but I’ll remember +in case anything does happen.”</p> +<p>Finishing his ice cream, Jim thanked the editor +and got up to leave.</p> +<p>“Look,” said Morgan suddenly, “Let’s hire Jim to +distribute the bills about the Co-op. He could take +them around on his horse.”</p> +<p>“Good idea,” approved the editor. “Do you know +the countryside pretty well, Jim?”</p> +<p>“Why sure,” said Jim. “I’ve lived here all my +life.”</p> +<p>“Well, we will give you a dollar and a half a day. +The idea is to deliver bills advertising the new +Farmer’s Co-operative that we are forming. We +want to put a circular in the hands of every farmer +within a radius of ten miles. I have a big map at +my office on which we can mark out the territory. +Want the job?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_60">[60]</div> +<p>“I sure do,” said Jim enthusiastically.</p> +<p>“You be at the office tomorrow morning at nine +or so. The circulars will be printed by then and we +can get started.”</p> +<p>Jim said nothing at home about his day’s adventures, +other than to mention that he had a job for +the next few days. The following morning he hurried +through his chores, gave Ticktock a hasty +grooming, and then rushed into the house to change +into clean overalls. His mother had prepared 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 day would not ruin his +appetite. There were three thick sandwiches, two +pieces of cake and two apples. It would do, he decided +after some consideration.</p> +<p>“Thanks, Mom,” he said. “Ticktock and I’ll be +home in time for supper.”</p> +<p>“All right, cowboy,” smiled his mother. “Don’t +get lost now.”</p> +<p>“Get lost!” snorted Jim indignantly. “Why even +if I did, Ticktock would be able to find the way +back.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_61">[61]</div> +<p>He went outside in high spirits, opened the orchard +gate and whistled. It was no longer an orchard +in his mind but a corral which was the private domain +of the mustang. Of course, the bull was often +there but Jim and Ticktock ignored that animal as +being beneath their notice.</p> +<p>The pony trotted over to the feed shed for his +bridle. As Jim put his paper lunch bag inside the +burlap sack, he thought longingly how handy a saddle +would be. You could tie things such as your +lunch to the saddle horn or, even better, get your +mother to make some canvas bags to fasten behind +the cantle. The way it was now, you had to have +equal weights in both 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 of the problems of life. He did not have a saddle, +but he did have a wonderful horse—which was +the important thing.</p> +<p>While he was debating what to put in the bag to +balance his lunch, he realized suddenly that he had +nothing for the horse to eat. There would be plenty +of green grass and clover by the roadside, no doubt, +but they would be on the move most of the time +with few pauses for Ticktock to crop. 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 six choice 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 on Ticktock, Jim felt rather underhanded +in giving the pony any grain. He would offer to pay +for the corn, now that he was earning money.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_62">[62]</div> +<p>The Springdale <i>Gazette</i> was being run through +the presses when Jim arrived in town. He hung +around the shop watching the machinery with absorption. +The inky smell and the activity of the +print shop fascinated him. It must be fun to write +things and then see your words appear in print. +When Bill Arnold finally found a free minute and +motioned for Jim to follow him into the office, the +boy went with reluctance. Perhaps he could manage +to be both an editor and a rancher when he grew +older.</p> +<p>The editor and Jim went over the area to be covered. +Arnold outlined the region on a huge county +map which hung on the office wall. Jim made a rough +sketch, took a huge bundle of bills and started off +to work. As he jogged out of town with the bills in +two bundles hanging over Ticktock’s back, he again +found himself longing for the convenience of a +saddle.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_63">[63]</div> +<p>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, and the air was +filled with the heady scent of the rich earth and its +new blanket of growing life. Birds sang in the trees +while quail scurried across the road or took off in +their short plummeting flights. Jim felt like taking +off his shoes and wiggling his bare toes in the fertile +ground.</p> +<p>It was fun delivering the bills. He and Ticktock +developed a system after the first few farms. They +would jog along at a comfortable easy pace until +they reached the lane leading from the road. Then +they would break into a mad gallop, dashing into +the farmyard as if on a mission of life and death. +Most of the men were in the fields working, but +such tactics invariably brought at least the woman +of the house out on the porch to learn the cause of +the excitement. If there were any children present, +they crowded around to stare at Jim and Ticktock. +Jim felt proud and important, particularly if there +were boys about his age. He would hand his circular +to the woman with a flourish.</p> +<p>“Be sure to read that carefully,” he told each one. +“It’s very important.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_64">[64]</div> +<p>He was usually able to deliver the bill to someone +without dismounting. After he made his short speech, +he would wheel Ticktock quickly and gallop furiously +out the lane, knowing that the envious eyes +of the children were following him. As soon as they +were well out of sight, Ticktock would lapse into a +pleasant ambling walk until they reached the next +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 turn his head +around to grin at Jim as if saying, “We certainly +put on a show that time, didn’t we?”</p> +<div class="img" id="p64"> +<img src="images/p64.jpg" alt="Galloping back to the farm" width="500" height="190" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_65">[65]</div> +<p>The first day passed rapidly. The second morning +Jim was stiff from riding all the previous day, but +the soreness soon wore off. Noon found the two near +Briggs Woods, a heavily wooded area about six +miles from home. Jim’s route was such that the +shortest way took him along the one road leading +through the center of the forest. It was lonely and +silent once the high trees closed behind him, but the +semi-gloom appealed to the boy. He stopped beside a +small stream in the middle of the forest to eat his +lunch. As he munched his sandwiches he could see +narrow trails which led back into the trees and +hinted of mystery and excitement. There must be +pools in the depths of the woods, decided Jim, for +the air was filled with the croaking of frogs. A turtledove +was giving its plaintive, mournful coo in +the distance and there were rustling sounds in the +underbrush that hinted of wild animals passing near +by on their mysterious errands. Jim inhaled deeply +of the odor of pine needles and moulding leaves. This +would be a secret rendezvous belonging to him and +Ticktock. When he had finished this job, they would +explore the forest together until they knew it well. +Somewhere, back up one of these little winding trails, +they would find a perfect spot for a hidden camp.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_66">[66]</div> +<p>After lingering so long in the woods, Jim was +late in covering the area he had mapped out for the +day. He delivered the last bill and turned Ticktock +impatiently in the direction which he thought home +to be. After going several miles, he not only recognized +no landmarks, but the farms looked increasingly +unfamiliar. He stopped and puzzled over his +map. That didn’t help a great deal. He made a +grimace and unsuccessfully tried to figure out his +bearings from the rapidly setting sun. Very crestfallen, +he had to admit that he was lost.</p> +<p>Knowing that he could stop in at any farmhouse +and ask directions, Jim was not worried. However, +he felt that to do so was to admit defeat. He and +Ticktock were a self-reliant team, and it would hurt +his pride to admit that they couldn’t handle any +situation. Also he knew these Missouri farm women. +They were kind—too kind to suit his purposes. They +would give him very complete directions and then +insist that he have something to eat. That would be +fine, for he certainly was hungry, but matters +wouldn’t stop there. They would promptly call his +parents to keep them from worrying. That was the +last thing Jim wanted. Not only had he boasted to +his mother about not getting lost, but both she and +his father might forbid his delivering circulars again +the following day if they were afraid of his losing +his way. No, there had to be a better way out.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_67">[67]</div> +<p>Ticktock looked around at his rider with a question +in his eyes. He was hungry too and couldn’t +quite understand what they were waiting for.</p> +<p>“O.K., boy,” said Jim suddenly. “You figure it +out. Take us home.” He let the reins go loose.</p> +<p>Ticktock set out confidently at a brisk trot. He +turned right at the first corner without hesitation. +He was going somewhere, there was no doubt of +that. Jim hoped that it was in the right direction. +After three or four miles, Jim’s confidence in Ticktock +was justified, for the countryside began to look +familiar.</p> +<p>“You’re the smartest horse in the world,” said +Jim, patting Ticktock fondly on the neck. “There’s +nothing we can’t do. We’ll really explore that woods +now. At least <i>you</i> won’t get lost.”</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows was reading the <i>Gazette</i> when Jim +arrived. The boy rushed in the house full of the news +of this fresh evidence of the mustang’s brilliance.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_68">[68]</div> +<p>“I didn’t mean to be late to help with the chores,” +he explained, “but after I got ready to come home I +was all twisted up in my directions and was going +to ask the way, but instead I just let Ticktock go and +he brought us right home.”</p> +<p>“I have to admit that nag seems to have a sense +of responsibility where you are concerned,” said +Mr. Meadows dryly. “But where others are involved +he seems to have a streak of meanness. I warn you +to watch him closely, because if he causes any trouble, +away he goes. Here, read this.”</p> +<p>With these ominous words Mr. Meadows handed +Jim the <i>Gazette</i>, pointing to an article on the front +page. Puzzled, Jim started to read.</p> +<blockquote> +<p class="tbcenter"><span class="large">Law Tangles with Horse</span></p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>The whole matter was settled out of court. +The Springdale <i>Gazette</i>, with its usual public +spirited policy, has placed the yard in +back of the <i>Gazette</i> 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.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="pb" id="Page_69">[69]</div> +<h2 id="c5"><br />Chapter Five +<br />The Pony Express</h2> +<div class="pb" id="Page_70">[70]</div> +<p>It took three more days to complete the delivery +of circulars. On the last day, Jim had covered +the remaining area by mid-afternoon and was +on his way home when he noticed a farm that he had +missed. It was a dilapidated old place with tumble-down +fences and a few rickety unpainted buildings +situated well back from the road, almost hidden in +a clump of trees. The whole farm looked so neglected +and run-down that Jim decided to deliver a circular +there for the chief purpose of obtaining a closer look +at the place.</p> +<p>After riding up a long, weed-choked lane, he +reached the farmyard. It was a barren, grassless +yard, littered with odds and ends of farm machinery +and an old model-T Ford touring car with no top. +Seated beneath a huge tree was a white haired old +man, drinking lemonade. A pair of bright blue eyes +looked quizzically at Jim from beneath shaggy white +brows.</p> +<p>“Howdy, son,” he said, the leathery old face +wrinkling into a friendly smile.</p> +<p>“How do you do,” answered Jim politely. “Here +is a circular all about the new Farmer’s Co-operative.”</p> +<p>As he leaned down to hand the paper to the old +man, his eyes rested longingly on the pitcher of +lemonade. The look did not escape the bright blue +eyes.</p> +<p>“Light a while and have a glass,” the old man +invited.</p> +<p>Jim promptly accepted, sliding from Ticktock’s +back. His host looked at the circular casually and +then stuffed it in his pocket. He examined Jim and +the mustang much more closely.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_71">[71]</div> +<p>“Right pert-looking horse you got there, son,” he +observed finally.</p> +<p>“Smartest horse in the country,” boasted Jim. +“He can do anything.”</p> +<p>“That so?” asked the man. “Reckon he could catch +that shoat over there?”</p> +<p>Jim looked in the direction of the pointing finger. +A small black and white pig was wandering loose +around the yard, stopping to root in the earth here +and there.</p> +<p>“I reckon so,” answered Jim. “I don’t know why +a horse would be needed to catch a pig though.”</p> +<p>“That shows how little you know about pigs,” said +the old man. “That shoat is part razorback, part +snake and the rest deer as near as I can figure it out. +Leastwise you’d think so if you tried to catch it. +Been loose three days now. Not that I mind pigs +being loose around the yard—they’re sort of company +to an old bachelor like me. But this little thing +is the orneriest critter I ever run across. Yesterday +it went over there where those beehives are and +knocked three of them over. Today I dropped my +plug of chewin’ tobacco and hanged if that shoat +didn’t eat it before I could lean down. It’s started +killin’ chickens too. Nothin’ worse than a hog that +kills chickens; never did know one to be cured.”</p> +<p>“Where’s its pen?” asked Jim.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_72">[72]</div> +<div class="img" id="p72"> +<img src="images/p72.jpg" alt="Runaway pig" width="500" height="339" /> +</div> +<p>“Over there,” said the old man, pointing to an +open gate. “I fixed the fence so it’ll hold if I can +ever catch the dad-blamed pig. I guess I’m too old +to catch a pig like that. Too lazy too. I retired twenty +years ago and aside from a few chores, I been mighty +happy doin’ nothin’ for years, and now this fool +shoat has to come along to upset my peace of mind. +If I don’t catch it, I’ll find it in my bed one of these +nights. Already found it in the kitchen once.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_73">[73]</div> +<p>“I’ll chase it in for you,” said Jim, finishing his +lemonade. He got to his feet confidently.</p> +<p>Getting the pig back into the pen was not so simple +as Jim had thought. He had considerable experience +with pigs but he had never encountered one as +wily as this. He chased around the yard after the +elusive animal until he was exhausted, without so +much as getting the pig near the open gate of the +pen. Panting heavily, Jim regarded the shoat, +which in turn looked back at him with insolent +contempt.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_74">[74]</div> +<p>“Feared you might have trouble,” said the old +man, who had not stirred from his seat beneath the +tree, but was watching with interest. “That’s why +I suggested the horse. Maybe you can tire out the +little wretch.”</p> +<p>Accepting the suggestion, Jim mounted Ticktock. +Around and around the yard they went after the pig. +The latter showed no signs of becoming exhausted +but finally grew tired of the scene. The animal +headed through a gap in an old fence and started +across an adjoining pasture which contained a shallow +muddy pond. In the open pasture Jim and his +horse had a decided advantage. While in the cluttered +yard his speed had been retarded by having to +duck and turn, now Ticktock could open up. The +pig’s short legs worked like mad but the horse was +always behind him. A quick turn of the shoat would +cause Ticktock to rush past, but Jim would wheel +the mustang and in a few strides they would again +be practically on top of the pig. The fleeing animal +now began to show signs of exhaustion.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_75">[75]</div> +<p>In the excitement of the twisting, turning chase, +both Jim and the mustang paid little attention to +where they were going but simply kept their eyes +glued to the pig. After being left behind on another +turn, they came rushing up on the animal, to discover +suddenly that they were heading straight into +the pond. The exhausted and panicky shoat began +floundering in the mud. Jim realized the danger at +the last moment and tried to rein in Ticktock. The +mustang braced all four legs, trying to stop, but his +speed was too great. He slid forward into the slippery +mud like a sleigh, passing directly over the +bogged-down pig. As the mustang’s hind legs cleared +the pig, they hit a particularly slippery spot and +collapsed beneath him. The pony sat down in the +shallow muddy water with a resounding smack. As +Ticktock sat, Jim slid down the sloping bare back +and in turn landed in the water. However, instead +of sitting in the soft mud, he found himself astride +the muddy and now terror-stricken pig. The animal +let out one piercing squeal after another, wiggling +and thrashing in the shallow water. Once the muddy +water had dripped from Jim’s eyes so that he could +see what was happening, he grabbed the pig’s ears. +He firmly retained his seat astride the squealing +animal.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_76">[76]</div> +<p>Jim knew that it was only a matter of minutes +before the struggling pig would wriggle free, since +the muddy creature was almost impossible to hold. +However, after all the trouble, the boy was not going +to let the captive escape if there were any way of +preventing it. The burlap bag which he had been +using for padding on Ticktock’s back had slipped off +with him. Grabbing it, he quickly slipped the bag +over the pig’s head. A floundering muddy struggle +ensued. Occasionally Jim was on top but just as +often it was the pig. Finally when both were about +drowned, the task was accomplished. The pig was +in the bag. Covered with mud from head to foot, +Jim dragged the bag to shore.</p> +<p>The old man, laughing uproariously, was waiting +beside the pond.</p> +<p>“You did it, by gum!” he said, when at last he +stopped laughing. “Mighty strange method though. +Do you always catch pigs that way?”</p> +<p>“I caught him, didn’t I?” said Jim a little belligerently. +He didn’t see much humor in the situation.</p> +<p>“Sure did,” said the old man, still grinning. +“You’re all covered with mud and glory.”</p> +<p>The pig was too heavy to carry, so the old man +got a wheelbarrow in which they trundled the captured +animal back to its pen.</p> +<p>“That watering tank is good and clean,” suggested +the old man. “Why don’t you jump in, clothes +and all and get some of that mud off?”</p> +<p>After enjoying himself splashing in the cool +water for a few minutes, Jim emerged much cleaner +and in a better frame of mind. He wiped the mud +off Ticktock’s hind quarters and prepared to leave.</p> +<p>“Thanks, son,” said the old man, his eyes twinkling. +“Here’s two dollars—one for catching that +pesky animal and one for the entertainment.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_77">[77]</div> +<p>Jim grinned and thanked his benefactor. It had +been a profitable day; although he hoped he could +sneak in the house without his mother seeing his +clothes.</p> +<p>The money earned by delivering circulars and +catching the pig proved to be only a teaser to Jim. +Now that it had been demonstrated that he and +Ticktock had the capacity to earn money together, +his ambition knew no bounds. He worried and fretted +over his inactivity. Surely there must be numerous +jobs that he and his pony could undertake. He considered +going from door to door in Springdale, offering +his services, but it seemed a tedious method +of obtaining work. Then Robert Morgan gave him +a better idea.</p> +<p>“How’s the Farmer’s Co-operative doing?” asked +Jim when he chanced to meet the young lawyer on +the street.</p> +<p>“Splendid!” said Morgan warmly. “You did a +wonderful job delivering those bills. From what I +hear you must have been going at a mad gallop the +entire time. How did Ticktock stand the pace?”</p> +<p>“We just galloped while we were being watched,” +explained Jim, with a grin. “The rest of the time +we went at a slow walk.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_78">[78]</div> +<p>“Smart work,” said Morgan. “We got a great +deal of publicity out of that. Publicity is what you +need, Jim, when you are trying to start something +new. You have to create interest.”</p> +<p>Jim thought over the lawyer’s words all the way +home. He was turning in the lane when he found +the solution to his problem. Going upstairs to the +privacy of his room, he began work with a pencil +and paper. After much thought and many false +starts, his writing began to take form. He labored +for several hours, hunting up words in the dictionary, +correcting his spelling, altering and revising +his sentences.</p> +<p>The following morning Jim bridled his mustang +and departed eagerly for Springdale. Arriving at +the <i>Gazette</i> building he sought out the editor. Arnold +was seated in his office relaxing; his feet up on the +desk, his swivel chair tipped back and a pipe between +his teeth. To Jim he was the picture of editorial +genius at work. Being an editor must be a +fine occupation.</p> +<p>“I have a scoop for you, Mr. Arnold,” announced +the boy.</p> +<p>“You have?” asked the editor, picking up his feet +and a pencil from the desk at the same time. “Have +you and that horse of yours started a riot or a +revolution?”</p> +<p>“Neither,” said Jim. “Something else though. I’ve +written it up for you.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_79">[79]</div> +<p>Arnold took the proffered pages, reading them +carefully. Jim watched the other’s face anxiously +as he read.</p> +<p>“A very creditable job of reporting for a cub,” +said Arnold solemnly. “There will have to be a few +minor changes. For example, you shouldn’t say ‘errands +run lickety-split.’ It would sound better to +use some such phrase as ‘speedy messenger service.’ +You see, the <i>Gazette</i> is a dignified paper.”</p> +<p>“That does sound better,” agreed Jim. “Do you +want the story?”</p> +<p>“I think we can use it,” answered the editor. +“What are your rates for literary services?”</p> +<p>“Oh, you can have this free. I need the publicity.”</p> +<p>“Tell you what I’ll do,” offered Arnold. “In return +for the news story, I’ll run an advertisement +for you. Would that be satisfactory?”</p> +<p>“Swell!”</p> +<p>“It’s a deal then. I’ll draw up something appropriate.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_80">[80]</div> +<p>Jim rode home feeling proud and important. The +recent article about himself and Ticktock, even +though it had caused rather unfavorable comment +from his father, had made the boy hungry for fame. +When the <i>Gazette</i> arrived Jim was waiting at the +mailbox. His article was on the front page carrying +what seemed to Jim enormous block headlines.</p> +<blockquote> +<p class="tbcenter"><span class="large">New Business In Springdale</span></p> +<p class="center"><i>Pony Express Incorporated formed by Jim Meadows</i></p> +<p>Mr. Jim Meadows, local young business +man, has announced the formation of a new +enterprise in our community—The Pony +Express Incorporated. This business offers +a variety of services to Springdale residents. +The owners, Mr. Jim Meadows and his horse +Ticktock, will drive cattle to market, provide +speedy reliable messenger service, do +chores for farmers absent from their homes, +perform light freighting jobs (anything +moved that can be carried in a burlap bag), +or even baby sit providing no changing of +diapers is involved.</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows and his horse, who were recently +mentioned in this paper, are full and +equal partners in the new business. The +Pony Express, Inc., will use R.F.D. #2 as its +address, telephone Springdale 6207. Mr. +Meadows, the president, will take all telephone +messages, as the horse is a silent +partner. The advertisement of the Pony Express +will be found on page 3 of this issue.</p> +<p>Springdale is fortunate to be chosen as +the seat of this new enterprise. The variety +of new services offered will no doubt make +life richer and fuller for everyone. It is not +yet known whether the Springdale Rotary +Club will extend an invitation to Mr. Meadows +and Ticktock to join the organization.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="pb" id="Page_81">[81]</div> +<p>While the article was much changed from its +original form, and the last paragraph was entirely +new to Jim, there were still enough of the original +words remaining to make him feel that he had appeared +in print. Glowing with pride he turned to +see his advertisement. It was equally satisfactory.</p> +<div class="box"> +<p class="center">Turn Your Odd Jobs over to +<br /><span class="large"><i>The Pony Express, Inc.</i></span> +<br />(Ticktock and Jim, sole owners) +<br />Errands run, quickly and reliably +<br />Pigs caught +<br />Cattle herded or driven anywhere +<br />Confidential Messenger Service +<br /><i>For anything that man and horse can do</i> +<br />CALL ON US! +<br />Phone 6207 <span class="hst">Ask for Jim</span></p> +</div> +<p>Jim said nothing to his parents but let them discover +the article themselves. His father was first to +see the paper. He read the news item and advertisement, +grinning with amusement and pride.</p> +<p>“So you are in business now,” he said. “How did +you get all this free publicity?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_82">[82]</div> +<p>“Wrote most of it myself,” answered Jim frankly.</p> +<p>“I think you’ll do all right,” said Mr. Meadows. +“Well, I’ll give your firm its first job. The bull seems +to be in disfavor around here. How much will you +charge to drive it to town?”</p> +<p>“Fifty cents.”</p> +<p>“You’re hired,” said Mr. Meadows promptly. “As +a matter of fact, I think your rates are too low. I +would have paid a dollar.”</p> +<p>“Well, I gave you a special discount,” said Jim. +“When you do business with relatives they always +expect discounts.”</p> +<h2 id="c6"><br />Chapter Six +<br />The Saddle</h2> +<p>Jim set out for town with the bull haltered and +trailing behind Ticktock. He would have much +preferred to drive the animal to market, but he +decided that discretion was better than playing +cowboy. If the animal got loose in the village and +caused havoc, his father would never trust him +again.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_83">[83]</div> +<p>The bull had learned his lesson well and plodded +meekly behind the horse. Uneventfully the little +cavalcade made its way into town, across the tracks, +and over to the stockyards. Colonel Flesher came +out of his weighing shed, which also served as his +office, and greeted Jim.</p> +<p>“Good morning, young man. I see the Pony Express +is delivering the male.” He laughed so heartily +at his own pun that his enormous stomach shook +up and down.</p> +<p>Jim, who was very pleased that the colonel had +evidently read his recent publicity, grinned politely. +The bull was led onto the weighing platform and +after being weighed, was put in one of the enclosures +of the stockyard.</p> +<p>“How’s business with the Pony Express Incorporated?” +asked the stock buyer.</p> +<p>“Fair,” answered Jim. “Of course, just starting +in business this way things are apt to be a little +slow.”</p> +<p>“Have any trouble bringing that bull to town?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit,” answered Jim proudly. “Ticktock +comes from a ranch, you know, so he really knows +how to handle stock. We could drive a whole herd.”</p> +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” said the colonel. “I have to admit +that I was a bit off base where that horse is +concerned. He has certainly improved since the first +time I saw him. I think I’ll have a job for you in a +couple of days. There’s about ten head of stock I +bought from a farmer three miles south of here. +You interested in driving them in for me?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_84">[84]</div> +<p>“Sure,” said Jim confidently. “Any time you say. +Ten head at my usual rates would be two dollars.”</p> +<p>“That’s quite a wage for a young man,” said the +colonel considering. “But then there’s the rising cost +of living and the upkeep on your horse so I suppose +that’s fair. Anyhow its cheaper than trucking them +in. I’ll give you a call. Probably day after tomorrow.”</p> +<div class="img" id="p84"> +<img src="images/p84.jpg" alt="Leading a bull" width="500" height="250" /> +</div> +<p>“All right, sir. If I’m away on business my mother +will take the message. She acts as my secretary,” +said Jim, trying to speak casually.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_85">[85]</div> +<p>The telephone message came through as expected, +and very much excited, Jim set out. This was a job +to his liking—herding cattle like a true cowboy. He +arrived at his destination, collected the ten head of +cattle and started toward town. Driving the cattle +along the country roads was not difficult. He kept +the herd carefully to one side to avoid trouble with +passing automobiles. Now and then one of the “critters” +would see a tuft of grass on the opposite side +of the road and try to break away. Ticktock would +quickly demonstrate his prowess as a cow pony and +drive the offender back into line. Altogether the trip +to Springdale was accomplished without any untoward +incident.</p> +<p>As they started through the edge of town toward +the stockyards, difficulties began to develop. At the +sight of the wide inviting lawns on each side of the +street, the cattle really began to be troublesome. As +fast as one was chased back into the herd another +would stray. Jim and his pony both began to work +up a sweat. About halfway through town, the crisis +came. One stubborn old cow, taking a fancy to some +lettuce in a vegetable garden, went ambling across +the sidewalk with a determined glint in her eyes. +As Jim turned the pony after her, a steer broke +ranks and headed across a front lawn on the opposite +side of the street. It was a tough spot. You couldn’t +chase two strays in opposite directions and herd the +remaining eight cattle, all at the same time. With +a sinking feeling that he was failing at his first big +job, Jim considered desperately what to do.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_86">[86]</div> +<p>Leaving the reins dangling on Ticktock’s neck, +Jim slid from the horse’s back. “Keep ’em herded, +Ticktock,” he shouted, and started after the old +cow in the vegetable garden.</p> +<p>Ticktock followed his instructions remarkably +well. He seemed to sense what was wanted and +faithfully kept the remaining eight cows tightly +bunched. Shouting and waving his arms, Jim chased +the old cow from the garden before any damage was +done except a few deep hoof prints in the soft earth. +As he herded the straying animal back across the +sidewalk toward the main herd, he looked for the +stray on the opposite side of the street. Dismayed +he saw the steer was already across the well-kept +lawn and almost to an orderly flower garden which +nestled at the side of a little white bungalow.</p> +<p>Just as the frisky young bull was about to plow +into the little flower bed, a liver and white shape +came hurtling around the corner of the bungalow, +barking furiously. Ferociously, the dog went after +the steer, which turned tail and fled back toward +the street. Nipping at the steer’s heels, the dog +chased the animal across the sidewalk.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_87">[87]</div> +<p>“Here, boy. Come here, old fellow,” shouted Jim +as invitingly as he knew how. He was deeply grateful +to the dog for helping save the day, but he didn’t +want the barking warrior to get the whole herd excited. +Then there would be serious trouble. Fortunately, +the dog was well trained and stopped his +barking, trotting obediently up to Jim. It was a +springer spaniel with beautiful markings. Jim +longed to reach down and pat his new friend’s head +but the cattle seemed more important at the moment. +By now the herd was altogether again and +Ticktock was doing a magnificent job keeping +the cattle tightly bunched. The little mustang was +slowly circling the herd which was now at a standstill.</p> +<p>Since there was nothing available from which to +climb up on the mustang’s back, Jim decided to walk +the remaining short distance to the stockyards. +Moreover, it would be easier to keep the cattle under +control with himself on one side and Ticktock on +the other. He started the cattle moving once more. +As they proceeded down the street, the spaniel followed. +At first, Jim tried to get the dog to return +to his home, fearing that the animal would start +barking and stampede the cattle. But the brown +and white springer seemed determined to accompany +him. He turned out to be a very competent +helper, trotting along on one side of the herd very +quietly until one of the cattle attempted to break +from the knot. Then the little dog would bark furiously +and chase the offender back into place.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_88">[88]</div> +<p>With perfect teamwork such as this, the rest of +the journey was uneventful. When they arrived at the +stockyard Ticktock was on one side of the herd, +the dog on the other, and Jim walked behind. Colonel +Flesher came out of his office, watching the last +stage with open-mouthed amazement.</p> +<p>“That certainly takes the prize,” he observed +when the cattle were safely penned. “You, that horse +and the dog all working together like clockwork. I +hope you didn’t walk all the way to town.”</p> +<p>“No, just the last half-mile. It was simple out on +the country road. Going through town, I figured out +this was the easy way to handle ’em.”</p> +<p>“Well, I have to admit you did it beautifully,” +said the stock buyer in admiration. “I forgot to tell +you, but that little road over there west of the yards +comes in parallel to the railroad tracks. There are +no houses or yards along that. It might be a little +longer in case you have to circle town to get to it, +but it would probably be less trouble in the long +run.”</p> +<p>“I’ll take that next time,” said Jim, who didn’t +care to repeat his recent experience.</p> +<p>“Where’d you pick up Doc Cornby’s dog?” asked +Colonel Flesher, paying Jim his two dollars.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_89">[89]</div> +<p>“Oh, I just recruited him on the way,” said Jim +very off-handedly.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s a mystery to me how you get these +animals to work for you so easily,” said the colonel, +shaking his head. “I’ll have another job for you in +a few days.”</p> +<p>Thanking the stock buyer for the money, Jim +climbed back on his horse and whistled to the dog. +He felt it was only fair to return the spaniel to his +home after the assistance the dog had given him. +Arriving at the bungalow, Jim dismounted and +walked up to the door. His knock was answered by +a very pleasant-faced woman.</p> +<p>“How do you do, Mrs. Cornby,” he said politely. +“I brought your dog back. He was helping me drive +cattle.”</p> +<p>“I saw what was happening from the window,” +said Mrs. Cornby, smiling. “It was a good thing +Horace was here to help you. That steer was heading +straight for my flowers. If it had ruined my +prize begonias, I would never have forgiven you.”</p> +<p>“He’s certainly a smart dog. He was a big help.”</p> +<p>“He spent the last summer on my brother’s farm. +Bert taught him to go after the cows each evening, +so I guess he enjoys helping herd cattle.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_90">[90]</div> +<p>Mrs. Cornby had solved the mystery of why the +dog had helped herd so intelligently, but Jim was +slightly disappointed. He would have preferred to +think that animals instinctively knew what he +wanted.</p> +<p>“If he likes to drive cattle, I’d be glad to take him +along the next time I bring some in,” volunteered +Jim.</p> +<p>“Thank you very much, but I think not,” said +Mrs. Cornby. “He runs away too much as it is and +if anything happened to him the children would be +heartbroken. I suppose you’re Jim Meadows of the +Pony Express that we have been reading about in +the paper.”</p> +<p>“That’s right,” said Jim proudly. A sudden +thought struck him. The editor and Dr. Cornby were +close friends. “Would you do me a favor, Mrs. +Cornby? Don’t let Mr. Arnold hear about the trouble +I had with the cattle. He might print it in his newspaper +and bad publicity like that could ruin my +business. I’m going to drive cattle by a different +route after this, anyhow.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Cornby laughingly promised she would remain +silent. Jim got back on his horse and headed +home for lunch. He would get a smart dog like +Horace some day, he decided. But first, before taking +on any more liabilities, he wanted to solve the +problem of keeping Ticktock permanently. Mrs. +Cornby had been nice, agreeing to keep quiet about +the incident. He was glad the steer hadn’t ruined +her begonias, though why anyone set such a store +by ugly waxy-leaved plants like begonias, he didn’t +know. Women are hard to understand, he decided.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_91">[91]</div> +<p>After two more successful and uneventful trips +driving cattle to town, Colonel Flesher offered Jim +an additional job.</p> +<p>“How would you like to work for me Saturday +afternoons and evenings at the sales barn?” asked +the stock buyer with a wave of his fat hand toward +the huge auction barn near the stockyards.</p> +<p>“That sounds swell, sir,” said Jim. He had attended +part of the auction one afternoon with his +father and had enjoyed it immensely.</p> +<p>“I’ll give you a dollar and a half and your supper. +Since I don’t suppose you’d consider a proposition +that didn’t include your horse, I’ll throw in feed for +him too,” offered the colonel.</p> +<p>“It’s a deal,” said Jim, shaking hands. “When do +I start?”</p> +<p>“Three o’clock this Saturday.”</p> +<p>Anything and everything was sold at the colonel’s +Saturday sales. There were horses, sheep, cattle, +goats, pigs and poultry auctioned off in the big barn. +The farmers who always came to town Saturday +afternoon or evening to do their shopping brought +whatever they wished to sell. You could buy garden +tools, tractors, chairs, setting hens or pianos. Anything +that was offered was put on the block and +sold to the highest bidder. There were items ranging +from fifty cents to five hundred dollars.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_92">[92]</div> +<p>Each sale was as fascinating as a circus to Jim. +There was always a huge throng of people gathered +under the big roof—men, women and children from +all over the surrounding countryside. There is some +form of contagious excitement at an auction. When +the crowd surged forward to bid on some choice +item, the tenseness and excitement of the group +would grip Jim too. He would hold his breath as the +colonel skillfully maneuvered the bidding higher and +higher.</p> +<p>Jim gained a new respect for Colonel Flesher at +the auctions. He had always wondered secretly how +a man could be as fat as the stock buyer unless he +were lazy, but he changed his mind at the sales. The +big man was going from three in the afternoon, +when the sale opened, until it ended, usually about +nine in the evening. It was a mystery to Jim how the +colonel’s voice managed to keep up its steady flow, +hour after hour. He never lost his enthusiasm +either. He would shout as jovially and interestedly +while selling a fifty-cent used ironing board as he +would over a prize cow. The auctioneer was particularly +adept at keeping the crowd in a good humor. +If the bidding were not progressing well, he +could always manage to bring up a joke or story to +get the crowd laughing.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_93">[93]</div> +<p>“Now look men,” he might say, while selling a +used washing machine. “You can’t let this washing +machine go for a paltry ten dollars. No wonder the +divorce rate is rising. You tell a woman you love her, +and then, after you are married, you would rather +let her break her back over a washboard than spend +more than ten dollars. Now let’s have a bid that will +show chivalry is not dead. Besides, I think with a +little bit of trouble you could hook an ice-cream +freezer to this motor. What am I bid? Fifteen, fifteen, +fifteen, sixteen, sixteen, eighteen, who’ll make +it twenty. Twenty dollars by the man over there who +loves his wife. Twenty—twenty—going at twenty. +Going, going, gone! Sold for twenty dollars.”</p> +<p>In the beginning Jim was baffled by the methods +used in bidding. During the first few sales he jerked +his head back and forth frantically trying to locate +the various bidders but he seldom saw more than +half of them. After a few experiences helping the +colonel upon the platform, he began to solve the mystery. +Some men would lift a finger while others +would wink an eye or use a nod of the head. Whatever +the signal, the colonel seldom missed it. He +seemed to have an uncanny knack of knowing who +was a likely bidder on each item, so that often it was +unnecessary for a bidder to announce himself as a +party to the bidding even on his initial offer. It +seemed of particular importance on expensive items, +such as large farm machinery, that the bidders maintain +secrecy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_94">[94]</div> +<p>“They don’t want the other bidders to know who +their competition is,” explained the colonel to Jim. +“Everybody knows everybody else and about how +much money he has. If a man knows who’s bucking +him at an auction, he knows just about how high the +other fellow is willing to go. That’s bad at a sale. +For example, if a good milk cow was being sold and +everybody knew old man Wilkins was bidding, they +might get discouraged because they know he’s +wealthy and stubborn. On the other hand, he doesn’t +want people to know he’s in the race as someone +might run up the price just to spite him.”</p> +<p>Jim enjoyed his duties at the auction. He led out +cows and horses to be sold, handed small items to the +colonel, or even held up an occasional article for the +inspection of the crowd while Colonel Flesher sold +it. When there was an unusually large amount of +stock to be sold, part of it was kept at the stockyard +and driven over as required. Those instances were +the only times that Ticktock’s services were needed. +However, Jim always kept the pony tied in the stock +barn during the sales. He liked the mustang close +by, and Ticktock seemed to enjoy the sale as much +as the boy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_95">[95]</div> +<p>There was a half-hour pause at six o’clock while +the colonel and his helpers ate a quick supper. The +meal usually consisted of several hot dogs or hamburgers, +a piece of pie and coffee. The food was obtained +at the lunch counter just outside the main +entrance to the sales barn and was taken into the +colonel’s office to be eaten. Jim always looked forward +to the brief meal. Not only did he like hot dogs +and hamburgers, but also he enjoyed the conversation.</p> +<p>“That big gray horse went dirt cheap, didn’t it?” +the sales clerk, Carl Mason, would say.</p> +<p>“Yeah, it was a steal,” Colonel Flesher would +agree. “I tried my best to get the price up on that. +That tractor was way overbid though. Sold for twice +what it was worth.”</p> +<p>Jim began to have a very shrewd idea of what +various articles were worth, ranging from mops to +gang plows.</p> +<p>At Jim’s fourth auction, a saddle was offered for +sale. He saw it just before the sale opened, stacked +in a corner with a pile of miscellaneous household +articles. Climbing over two galvanized washtubs, he +managed to get close enough to inspect it carefully. +It was a Western saddle with a high horn and cantle. +The pommel, the cantle and the leather leg protectors +were all covered with fancy tooling.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_96">[96]</div> +<p>The saddle had been used just enough to deepen +the color of the leather to a beautiful dark brown. +Nowhere was it worn, and apparently it had been +well cared for, as the leather was soft and pliable to +the touch, indicating that plenty of saddlesoap and +elbow grease had been used by the owner. It looked +just right for Ticktock. Jim gazed at the saddle with +longing and admiration. He had looked at the prices +of saddles in the Montgomery Ward and Sears catalogs +at home and knew a saddle such as that must +have cost at least a hundred dollars. Probably more, +as he had never seen a saddle with tooling such as +this one.</p> +<p>In his mind he counted his money. He had only +two dollars with him, but the total of his earnings +now amounted to nineteen dollars. The saddle +couldn’t conceivably go for such a price as that, +he decided dismally, even if it were an off day at the +sale. Besides he didn’t have the money with him and +the sales were always for cash. Regretfully he +stopped his minute inspection and went about his +duties.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_97">[97]</div> +<p>In spite of being resigned about the saddle, Jim +made certain that he was present when it was sold. +It seemed forever before it came up on the block. For +the first time Jim took little interest in the bidding +on various other articles offered. When the saddle +was finally brought forward, he stood on the edge +of the crowd, tense with excitement.</p> +<p>“What am I offered for this fine saddle?” asked +the colonel. “A hand-tooled saddle in fine condition. +None of your Eastern foolishness about this. It’s a +serviceable as well as a beautiful Western job. +There’s a good saddle blanket here that goes with it. +What am I bid? Who’ll make me an offer?”</p> +<p>Jim found himself criticizing the colonel’s sales +methods for the first time. He wished the auctioneer +wouldn’t praise the saddle in such glowing terms.</p> +<p>“Ten dollars,” came the first bid from somewhere +in the crowd.</p> +<p>“I have an offer of ten dollars. Who’ll make it +twelve?” boomed the colonel.</p> +<p>“Twelve,” was the answer from another quarter +of the room.</p> +<p>The bidding went to fourteen dollars and hung +there for a moment. Jim couldn’t bear the thought +of that beautiful saddle going to someone else for a +mere fourteen dollars. He resolutely shoved his fears +about money for Ticktock’s winter feed into the background.</p> +<p>“Fifteen dollars,” he shouted in a high voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_98">[98]</div> +<p>“I’m offered fifteen,” said the colonel, glancing +quickly at Jim. “Sixteen, sixteen, am I bid sixteen?” +Someone gave the signal and the offer went to sixteen. +The auctioneer looked over at Jim questioningly. +Feeling very nervous and uncertain that he +was doing the proper thing, Jim nodded. His bid +stood only a moment until the ante was raised to +eighteen. Again the colonel looked in his direction +and Jim nodded.</p> +<p>“Nineteen, I’ve been offered nineteen; who’ll make +it twenty, twenty, twenty. Twenty it is. Who’ll make +it twenty-one?”</p> +<p>Colonel Flesher looked questioningly at Jim, who +had to shake his head sadly. He had reached the +limit of his means. The bidding went on briskly until +it reached twenty-five dollars. There it hung.</p> +<p>“Twenty-five, twenty-five, who’ll make it twenty-six? +Going, going, gone. Twenty-five dollars. Sold +to the Pony Express Incorporated for twenty-five +dollars.”</p> +<p>Jim opened his mouth in astonishment. For a +moment he doubted what he had heard. He had +stopped bidding at nineteen. He didn’t think he +had made any signal after that which the colonel +could possibly interpret as a bid. He started to shout +out a denial and then thought better. He would put +the auctioneer in a bad spot if he denied the bid. He +tried to think of some way out of the delicate situation. +The only solution was to see Colonel Flesher as +soon as he could and explain that not only had he +not bid any such sum as twenty-five dollars but that +he couldn’t possibly pay it anyhow.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_99">[99]</div> +<p>All afternoon he worried about the matter. The +sale seemed to drag on forever. Finally it was time +for supper. Jim collected his food at the lunch wagon +and headed for the auctioneer’s office. Troubled as +he was, his appetite still remained.</p> +<p>“There’s been a mistake, Colonel Flesher,” Jim +said as the big man entered. “I stopped bidding at +nineteen dollars on that saddle.”</p> +<p>“I know you did. My eyesight isn’t failing yet.”</p> +<p>“I thought I heard you say it was sold to the +Pony Express at twenty-five dollars.”</p> +<p>“That’s right. I got to thinking how nice that +saddle would be for your horse. It’s worth seventy-five +dollars easily. I looked over at Ticktock and he +seemed interested in it too. After you finished bidding +I got three separate and distinct winks from +your horse. Since I understand he’s a full partner of +the firm I considered his bids binding and sold him +the saddle.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_100">[100]</div> +<p>Jim was still too troubled to worry whether the +colonel was kidding him or not. He wouldn’t put it +past Ticktock to have winked at the auctioneer. The +idea that the mustang might bid on the saddle +didn’t seem at all absurd to Jim.</p> +<p>“But I have only nineteen dollars,” he protested +weakly.</p> +<p>“Perfectly all right,” said the colonel jovially. +“This is one exception we’ll make to the rule of cash +on the barrel head. I’ve already paid for the saddle. +I’ll take it out of your wages. Now quit worrying +about the matter.”</p> +<p>Jim quit worrying. He gulped down his piece of +pie, thanked the colonel, and rushed out of the sales +barn. He found his newly acquired saddle and blanket. +He stroked the leather fondly. It certainly was +a beauty. Tenderly he carried it over to show Ticktock.</p> +<h2 id="c7"><br />Chapter Seven +<br />Horace</h2> +<div class="pb" id="Page_101">[101]</div> +<p>Ticktock was becoming sleek and fat by the +end of June. Decked out in his handsome new +saddle he was enough to fill Jim with a reasonable +pride and all the other boys with envy. Mrs. +Meadows made two sturdy saddlebags of canvas +which Jim had fitted out with straps and buckles at +the harness-maker. The completed outfit cost him a +dollar and a half, which he hated to spend from his +slowly accumulating hoard of feed money, but he +felt the saddlebags were a necessary part of his +business equipment. He also squandered three dollars +on a poncho which he felt any self-respecting +cowboy should own. Besides, who could tell when it +would rain and a poncho be vitally needed?</p> +<p>With his poncho rolled in a tight bundle behind +the saddle, and his saddlebags securely in place, +Jim often rode into town. Whether he was going on +an errand for his mother or to work at the sales +barn, he always arranged his route so that he rode +through part of the residential district. The boys +who lived in town and attended the Springdale School +always took an infuriatingly condescending attitude +toward the pupils of a tiny country school such as +the one Jim attended. Their manner clearly indicated +that they thought boys such as Jim were country +bumpkins. Jim felt it his duty to enlighten these +Springdale boys as to the advantages of living in +the country. While he wouldn’t admit that he was +trying to make them jealous, he felt he should display +Ticktock and his beautiful saddle as often as +possible in order that his city acquaintances wouldn’t +get any exaggerated ideas concerning the worth of +a shiny bicycle. Then he would be starting to Springdale +Junior High that fall and he thought he might +just as well start building up his reputation and +fame. Now and then he would stop to talk with +friends or even take a boy for a short canter. Other +times his business would be pressing so he would +gallop through the streets with a brisk clatter, fully +enjoying the envious eyes that followed him.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_102">[102]</div> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Meadows had rather opposed Jim’s +job at the sale at first on the ground that it kept him +out after dark. The sales often lasted until nine +o’clock and neither of Jim’s parents fancied his riding +home in the dark with automobiles on the road. +Jim did his best to quiet their fears by explaining +that he always rode carefully along the shoulder of +the highway where no car would possibly hit him. +However, to end the matter he was forced to add +another piece of equipment—a portable electric lantern. +He purchased a little dry-cell hand lantern that +he at first tied to his belt. After he acquired the saddle, +the light was hung on the saddle horn. He either +left the lantern turned on continuously while he was +riding or flashed it on when cars approached. He +objected to anything as modern as an electric lantern +for a cowboy, but, giving in to progress, decided +it was a very useful piece of equipment to +own. The problem of cars approaching from the rear +was solved by fastening a small round red reflector, +such as is used on automobiles, to the rear of the +cantle. He felt that added to the appearance of the +saddle.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_103">[103]</div> +<p>Ticktock and his rider became so well known +throughout the community that Robert Morgan, the +lawyer, decided to carry out the joking suggestion +that had been made in the Springdale <i>Gazette</i> when +the Pony Express was first formed. Jim’s name and +that of his horse were duly proposed to the Rotary +Club at one of its weekly luncheons. The members +present, falling in with the attorney’s facetious +mood, voted unanimously to offer the two partners +of the Pony Express an honorary membership. A +few days later Jim received an important-looking +letter through the mail.</p> +<blockquote> +<p class="center"><span class="small">SPRINGDALE ROTARY CLUB</span></p> +<div class="verse"> +<p class="t0"><i>Messrs. James Meadows and Ticktock</i></p> +<p class="t0"><i>Pony Express, Incorporated</i></p> +<p class="t0"><i>R.R.#2</i></p> +<p class="t0"><i>Springdale, Missouri</i></p> +</div> +<div class="verse"> +<p class="t0"><i>Gentlemen:</i></p> +</div> +<p><i>By a unanimous vote the Springdale +Rotary Club has decided to offer you both an honorary +membership (no dues are required from honorary +members). It is hoped that you will accept this +offer and join our ranks.</i></p> +<p><i>A dinner is being held Thursday evening June +23, at 7:00 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> at the Springdale Hotel. You are +cordially invited to attend as our guest of honor. We +hope to be able to prevail upon you at that time to +make a few remarks about your new enterprise, its +hazards and remunerations.</i></p> +<p><i>Due to hotel regulations we will be unable to accommodate +Ticktock at the banquet table but the +Springdale</i> Gazette <i>has offered its usual facilities in +the rear of the newspaper office.</i></p> +<p><i>We hope to receive your reply in the near future</i>.</p> +<p><span class="center"><i>Sincerely yours,</i></span> +<span class="center"><i>Robert Morgan</i></span> +<span class="jr"><i>Chairman, Membership Committee</i></span></p> +</blockquote> +<div class="pb" id="Page_104">[104]</div> +<p>Jim was quite excited about the letter but he was +uncertain as to what certain portions of it meant. +Particularly the word “remunerations.” He took the +letter to his father.</p> +<p>“I’m a member of the Rotary Club, Dad,” he said +proudly, “but I don’t understand all of this letter.”</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows read the letter over with a smile. +“You are becoming quite famous. You’ve been voted +an honorary member and don’t have to pay dues as +the rest of them do. Also you are invited to a banquet +next Thursday where they want you to make +an after dinner speech.”</p> +<p>“What’s that ‘hazards and remunerstuff’?”</p> +<p>“Well, they would just like you to tell them about +the risks you take in your business, the profits in it, +how you like it and so on,” said his father. “You +should write a reply to this, accepting the invitation.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_105">[105]</div> +<p>“I’d like to go,” said Jim, “but I don’t think much +of making a speech or writing a letter either.”</p> +<p>“Well, that is one of the penalties of rising in the +world,” said Mr. Meadows dryly. “You have more +public responsibilities. You have to make speeches, +contribute to charities and things of that nature.”</p> +<p>Jim got a paper and pencil and after an hour’s +labor finally composed an answer.</p> +<blockquote> +<p><i>Dear Mr. Morgan:</i></p> +<p><i>Thank you for inviting me to the +Rotary Club. I will be at the hotel at 7:00 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> on +Thursday.</i></p> +<p><i>I never made a speech before but +I will tell you what I know about the Pony Express.</i></p> +<p><span class="center"><i>Sincerely yours,</i></span> +<span class="jr"><i>Jim Meadows</i></span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>The next few days found Jim wishing a dozen +times that he had given some excuse and not promised +to attend the dinner. He was afraid of getting +up before all those men and talking and, what is +worse, he had not thought of a single thing to say +after two whole days’ concentration. He would go +over and over the matter in his mind and never get +beyond: “I want to thank everybody for inviting me +to join the Rotary Club and for having me at your +banquet.” That sounded very impressive and polite +as a starter but he couldn’t stop there if they expected +a speech. He began to dread Thursday night. +However, he had promised, so he felt that he had +to go through with it.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_106">[106]</div> +<p>When Thursday came, Jim put on his best clothes. +For the first time he found himself wishing he had +his gold watch. That watch would look very impressive +before all those business men. However, if +he hadn’t traded off the watch, he wouldn’t have +been in a position to be invited.</p> +<p>He rode into town feeling very nervous. Robert +Morgan and Bill Arnold met him at the newspaper +office and took him over to the hotel. Jim’s dismay +increased when he entered the banquet room. He +looked at the big horseshoe table and decided there +must be at least fifty members. He had never seen +such a crowd before. Fortunately, he was placed between +Robert Morgan and Dr. Cornby; so he didn’t +feel too lost among strangers.</p> +<p>Never having been at a banquet before, Jim was +uncertain whether the speeches came before, during +or after the meal. However when the standard banquet +plate of creamed chicken, peas and mashed +potatoes was set before everyone, he decided there +was little point worrying. He might get rid of the +hollow feeling in his stomach if he ate.</p> +<p>After the meal there were several short speeches +and reports about Rotary activities. Then Robert +Morgan got to his feet.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_107">[107]</div> +<p>“Gentlemen, there has been considerable fame +achieved by a new business firm in our city. This +company has brought a new type of service to our +community. I refer to the Pony Express. While one +of the members of this organization has preferred +to stay in back of the print shop and eat grass +rather than sit with us, Mr. James Meadows, the +other partner, is here tonight and has accepted our +offer of an honorary membership. We would like Mr. +Meadows to tell us how he got started in his present +business and something about it. What is the future +of the Pony Express and does he expect competition? +Gentlemen, I present Mr. Jim Meadows.”</p> +<p>Jim got to his feet. While the clapping was still +going on, he looked about nervously. He felt his +knees shaking, and his throat was so dry he was +certain he could never speak. Then he began to see +a few familiar faces. There was Mr. Slemak, the +buttermaker, Colonel Flesher, Mr. Higgins from the +grocery store and Bill Arnold. Everyone was smiling +in a very friendly manner. He thought about +Ticktock. Well, if everyone wanted to hear about his +horse, that was one subject he could talk about.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_108">[108]</div> +<p>“I want to thank everyone for inviting me to +join the Rotary Club and for having me here tonight,” +he said, going over the opening he had rehearsed +so many times. From that point on the +speech was extemporaneous. Jim just talked. “The +way I got started in business was that I traded my +gold watch for my horse Ticktock. I guess everybody +thought I got stung on the deal except me. But I +didn’t because I knew he was an awfully smart +horse. After I got him, I decided I had to earn some +money to feed him. There’s a lot of overhead in my +business—feed, a saddle, saddlebags and things like +that. As for the remuner-remunera-, whatever that +word is that means profits, I guess there isn’t much. +I’ll be working all summer for Colonel Flesher to +pay for my saddle. I have twenty-three dollars now +in cash. That seems like a lot of money. It’s more +than I ever had before, but I don’t know how much +it will take to feed Ticktock all winter. I’ll probably +end up broke. There aren’t many hazards in my +business. I was lost once, but Ticktock found the +way home. He’s got horse sense. Of course when he +was thin and I didn’t have any saddle I used to get +kinda sore behind now and then.</p> +<p>“I don’t think I’ll have much competition. In the +first place, not many boys have a gold watch they +can trade for a horse. Even if they did, they couldn’t +find as smart a horse as Ticktock. Maybe the Pony +Express has a big future ahead of it once I get my +saddle paid for. But whether I make much money +or not, it’s sure a lot of fun.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_109">[109]</div> +<p>Jim sat down to loud and prolonged applause. +His speech was unquestionably a huge success. When +everyone had finished congratulating him on his +prowess as an orator he walked back with the +editor, Dr. Cornby and Robert Morgan to the newspaper +office.</p> +<p>“Thanks a lot for coming, Jim,” said Morgan sincerely. +“Your speech was the best and the frankest +that club has heard in a long time.”</p> +<p>“Jim is getting to be quite a famous business +man,” commented Arnold. “If he were only a little +older, we’d invite him to join our Thursday night +stag parties.”</p> +<p>Jim said good-by and went out to his faithful +mustang. He had had an enjoyable evening and felt +rather guilty that Ticktock had such a small share +in his glory. After all the horse was a full partner.</p> +<p>“I guess you wouldn’t have enjoyed chicken and +peas anyhow,” he said as he mounted. “Anyway we +got some very good publicity. Everybody knows +about us now and we should get lots of work.”</p> +<p>It was ten-thirty and the evening had been much +more exhausting than Jim had realized. The effort +of making a speech had been as tiring as a day’s +hard labor and Jim felt like relaxing. Ticktock +knew the way home as well as he, so the boy let +the mustang take charge. After a short distance +the steady jog-jog of the pony’s easy walk lulled +him to sleep. Slumping in the saddle, he dozed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_110">[110]</div> +<div class="img" id="p110"> +<img src="images/p110.jpg" alt="Dozing in the saddle" width="500" height="206" /> +</div> +<p>Everything was serene for about a quarter of a +mile, when Jim sensed something was wrong. Sleepily +he opened his eyes and tried to figure out what +was amiss. Finally he realized Ticktock had stopped +and was standing still at the edge of the road.</p> +<p>“Come on, Ticktock. It’s late. Let’s get on home,” +he said in a drowsy voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_111">[111]</div> +<p>Ticktock didn’t move but stood looking down into +the ditch. Jim had the greatest confidence in his +horse and as he gradually became fully awake, knew +that the pony must have some reason for stopping. +Then he heard a whimpering sound in the dark.</p> +<p>Feeling a little frightened, he slipped the loop of +his lantern from the saddle horn and flashed the +light into the dark ditch beside the road. There was +a dog lying on its side.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_112">[112]</div> +<p>“Why, it’s Horace!” exclaimed Jim. “He’s hurt.”</p> +<p>Dismounting, he climbed down the bank beside +the dog and looked at him carefully. The spaniel +gazed up at him and whined piteously. Cautiously, +Jim began to feel the animal. The hind legs seemed +sound enough but when his hands touched the forelegs +the dog suddenly growled viciously and snapped +at him.</p> +<p>“He’s hurt in the front legs,” Jim informed Ticktock. +“I guess a car hit him and broke them.”</p> +<p>So long as Jim did not touch the injured legs, +the dog regarded him with pleading pain-filled eyes. +Jim was in a quandary. He could ride back into +town and inform Dr. Cornby that his dog was hurt +and lying beside the road. However, the dog might +be hurt internally also and minutes might be precious. +By the time he reached town and then led +the doctor back to find the dog it might be too late. +On the other hand, how would he take the dog to +town himself. The poor animal snapped at him each +time he touched the injured legs and moving him +might be the wrong thing to do. Jim’s knowledge of +first aid was very limited but he had heard that +moving a broken limb was sometimes unwise. Horace +decided the question by looking up once more +and crying pitifully. Jim just couldn’t leave him +there alone in the dark.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_113">[113]</div> +<p>Returning to his horse, he untied his poncho. He +carefully spread it out flat beside the helpless dog. +Then, talking gently and reassuringly, he gradually +inched the injured spaniel over onto the center of +the poncho.</p> +<p>“We’re going to be as gentle as we can,” he told +the dog. “If this hurts a little, it won’t be because +we mean it.”</p> +<p>He folded the edge of the poncho under so the +dog’s head would be clear and pulled up the corners. +By maneuvering the sides of the poncho he was able +to roll the dog onto its back very gently. Then he +tied the three free corners together. Leading Ticktock +down into the ditch, he finally managed to lift +the dog and hook the knotted corners of the poncho +over the saddle horn. He mounted very carefully +and with the dog suspended as comfortably as possible +in his makeshift sling, started the journey back +to town.</p> +<p>Jim was on his way to the veterinarian’s home +when he remembered the words at the newspaper +office. Doctor Cornby was probably still there playing +cards, as it was before midnight. Since the doctor’s +office was only two doors from the <i>Gazette</i> +building, Jim directed the mustang to the main +street. There were still lighted windows in the newspaper +office, so his guess proved correct.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_114">[114]</div> +<p>He left Ticktock at the curb and went up to the +front door. He found it locked, so he banged loudly. +Bill Arnold came to the door in his shirt sleeves.</p> +<p>“Hello, Jim. What are you doing back?”</p> +<p>“Is Dr. Cornby here?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>“Sure, come on in. Something wrong?”</p> +<p>Jim followed Arnold back to the office. “Your +dog’s out here with his front legs broken,” he announced +to the startled veterinarian.</p> +<p>“Good heavens!” said Cornby. “Where?”</p> +<p>Everyone followed Jim out to his horse where +Horace was still lying in his poncho sling. He was +lifted down tenderly and carried into Cornby’s +office.</p> +<p>“Mary said he ran away sometime this afternoon,” +said the doctor, as he examined the moaning +dog. “But he’s done that so often I didn’t think anything +about it. Where’d you find him, Jim?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t. Ticktock found him. I had gone to sleep +and woke up when Ticktock stopped. I tried to get +him to go on, but he wouldn’t so I flashed my light +over to see what was bothering him. There was +Horace in the ditch with his legs hurt. How is he?”</p> +<p>Cornby straightened up from his brief examination +of the injured spaniel. “He doesn’t seem to have +any internal injuries. Of course, two broken legs are +enough, but they can be fixed.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_115">[115]</div> +<p>“I hope I didn’t hurt his legs when I eased him +onto my poncho,” said Jim worriedly.</p> +<p>“Not a bit. You did a good job. I don’t know how +to thank you for finding him. My kids would never +recover if they lost Horace.”</p> +<p>“Do you mind if I use your phone?” asked Jim. +“Mom will be worried about my being so late.”</p> +<p>“I’d be glad to drive you home,” offered a stranger +who had been in the card game.</p> +<p>“Jim has a horse,” said Morgan to the speaker. +“He wouldn’t think of riding in a modern contraption. +Let alone leave Ticktock behind.”</p> +<p>“Thanks anyhow,” said Jim politely.</p> +<p>“It begins to look as if I am going to have to +assign a reporter to follow you,” said Arnold. +“Wherever you and that horse go, there’s news.”</p> +<h2 id="c8"><br />Chapter Eight +<br />Exile</h2> +<div class="pb" id="Page_116">[116]</div> +<p>The account of Jim’s speech before the Rotary +Club and his subsequent finding of Horace +by the roadside received prominent mention +in the next issue of the Springdale <i>Gazette</i>. As usual, +Bill Arnold gave the account of both episodes with +many asides and much humor. Mr. Meadows read +the paper with amusement and considerable pride. +He had been very intrigued when the first account +and the advertisement of the Pony Express had appeared. +Now his pride in his locally famous son grew +even greater. He was well aware how hard Jim had +been working and saving and knew without question +what the purpose was behind all the industry. +With quiet satisfaction he watched his son going +out to drive cattle, run errands, or work at the +auction.</p> +<p>Jim’s father was also becoming reconciled to +Ticktock. As the mustang blossomed under Jim’s +loving care, the older man could see that he had been +rather hasty in his first judgment. Much against his +will, he had to admit, at least to himself, that Ticktock +was an unusually smart horse. Now that he +had put on some flesh he was also a rather smart-appearing +pony. In spite of all his observations, +Mr. Meadows said nothing. Like most men, he hated +to admit that he had been wrong. Also, he was reluctant +to abandon a stand that he had definitely +taken. He had said that Ticktock must go when fall +came, and he hated to eat crow. In his own mind +he resolved to say nothing further about the matter +but instead just let events take their own natural +course.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_117">[117]</div> +<p>He knew Jim would never dispose of the pony +until he was forced to; so if nothing was said the +pony would simply remain by silent agreement. Mr. +Meadows knew that he would ease his son’s mind a +great deal if he could tell the boy about his change +of heart, but somehow he never seemed to find the +right moment. After all, he decided, the worry was +doing Jim no harm but merely making him work +harder to earn money for feed. So the days went by +and nothing was said on either side about the pony’s +fate. Jim could sense a little lessening of the hostility +on his father’s part, but he was still worried. +Mr. Meadows seldom changed his mind when he +made a decision and thus far Jim did not want to +play his trump card about paying for Ticktock’s +feed. However, it was still summer, and he felt +there was plenty of time.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_118">[118]</div> +<p>Jim made himself a lariat and began practicing. +It was a slow process but he was determined. After +about a week’s exercise he was able to whirl an open +loop over his head. Then he began lassoing fence +posts, tree stumps, and even occasionally his sister +Jean. After several trials of the latter, however, he +had to abandon Jean as a target. She objected rather +loudly to being roped and wouldn’t play unless Jim +let her take turns at lassoing him. Jean had been +rather lonely all summer anyhow, as Jim spent most +of his time with Ticktock instead of playing with +her as in former years. Jim would give in and let +her try roping him, but half a dozen unsuccessful +attempts would usually end with Jean hitting him +in the eye with the rope. Although he was very fond +of his young sister, he had a great deal of contempt +for women as cowboys.</p> +<div class="img" id="p118"> +<img src="images/p118.jpg" alt="Lariat practice" width="500" height="224" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_119">[119]</div> +<p>Ticktock watched all this practice with good-natured +scorn. He had seen experts twirling a lariat +and had no illusions about Jim’s ability. A number +of times when Jim would fail miserably in a cast at +a fence post, Ticktock would open his jaws and give +an unmistakable horse laugh. However, he was an +indulgent horse and realized Jim was young. So, +when Jim got to the stage of attempting to lasso +from horseback, Ticktock patronizingly coöperated.</p> +<p>A dummy was constructed of bags wrapped +around a pole set in a heavy wooden base. This fake +man was set up in the drive and Jim would dash +past madly, astride Ticktock, whirling his lariat. +About one cast in four his noose would encircle the +dummy. Then the end of the lariat would be wrapped +around the saddle horn and the horse and rider +would drag their victim triumphantly down the +drive.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_120">[120]</div> +<p>Practicing one thing for too long a period grew +tiresome, especially when the average of success was +as low as it was with Jim’s roping endeavors. So he +would alternate with teaching Ticktock to jump. +First a long two-by-four was laid on two bricks +about six inches from the ground. Jim would ride +up to the improvised bar at a full gallop, part of +the time swerving away or stopping, and other times +urging his horse over the bar. Ticktock caught on +to the new game in a surprisingly short time. He +was prepared to jump or swerve at the slightest sign +from his master. The bar kept creeping higher and +higher until Jim was certain his mustang could sail +over any ordinary fence.</p> +<p>Jim was feeling particularly jaunty and complacent +one morning, for he had made three perfect +casts in a row during his roping practice. After the +third cast he jumped off his horse, freed the dummy +from the noose, and carelessly set the apparatus upright +very near a small evergreen tree bordering the +drive. Remounting, he went all the way to the front +gate for his next approach. He came down the lane +at a full gallop swinging an exceptionally large +noose. As he tore past the dummy, he swung wildly. +Out of the corner of his eye he could see the loop +encircle the dummy. Jim wrapped the end of his +lariat around the saddle horn and braced himself +as if he had just roped a huge steer. It was well he +did, for unfortunately the noose caught the evergreen +also. There was a terrific tug on the lariat +and before the horse and rider could stop, half the +branches on the little evergreen had been ripped off +and were being dragged down the lane with the +dummy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_121">[121]</div> +<p>Jim stopped the pony and wheeled to gaze in dismay +at the havoc he had wrought. It was a sorry-looking +tree with the upper half naked and torn. +While Jim was considering what to do next, he discovered +that he wasn’t the only one staring at the +tree. His mother was standing on the front porch, +hands on hips, looking at the evergreen. Her face +boded no good for the cowboy and his horse. Mrs. +Meadows was very proud of her lawn and flowers. +The trim little evergreen had been one of her pet +trees.</p> +<p>“Young man, what do you think you are doing +with that rope of yours?” she demanded sternly.</p> +<p>“Lassoing,” said Jim humbly.</p> +<p>“So I see. Well, there will be no more lassoing +around here if you have to practice on my trees.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to,” explained Jim. “I was roping +the dummy.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_122">[122]</div> +<p>“And the tree got in the way,” said Mrs. Meadows, +nodding her head. “Do you have any idea how much +it would cost to replace that tree?”</p> +<p>“How much?” asked Jim hoping that it would be +some such sum as three or four dollars. He would +then offer to pay for a new tree and settle the matter. +After all, it couldn’t be much, as there were +evergreens all over the hills.</p> +<p>“About twenty-five dollars; that’s a golden +cypress.”</p> +<p>Jim’s heart sank. He couldn’t afford such a sum +as that, so instead of being able to offer casually to +replace the damage he was forced to mumble, “I’m +sorry.”</p> +<p>“That doesn’t replace the tree,” said his mother +sternly. “From now on there will be no more roping +around here. I want you to take a book over to +Mrs. Alsop. When you come back you can go down +and help your father in the garden. Perhaps if you +are kept busy enough you won’t be into any mischief.”</p> +<p>Feeling very contrite, Jim took the book and went +riding off to the Alsop’s. He completed his errand +and turned back toward home. His spirits began to +rise on the way back. His mother didn’t harbor a +grudge long and luckily his father hadn’t witnessed +the incident. He would rush down to the garden as +soon as he returned and work like mad to correct +the bad impression he had made.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_123">[123]</div> +<p>Mr. Meadows was busy in the garden picking +watermelons. They had an exceptionally large patch +that year, and melons were bringing high prices in +Springdale. He carefully picked the largest and ripest +and stacked them near the fence. He rapidly +collected a huge pile, all he could possibly haul to +town in one trip of the car. He had just about completed +his selection of all the ripe melons when Jim +came tearing down the lane.</p> +<p>Most of the fences were barbed wire around the +farm and too dangerous, in Jim’s opinion, to jump +unless there were some vital reason. However, the +garden was bordered by a relatively low board fence. +It seemed the most natural thing in the world to +ride Ticktock directly to the garden and thus show +how anxious he was to help his father.</p> +<p>Unable to see what was on the other side, Jim +came sailing grandly over the fence. It was a beautiful +jump with a very inglorious landing. Ticktock +came down squarely on the center of the pile of +watermelons. Fortunately the mustang recovered +his balance and didn’t break a leg. As it was, the +result was bad enough. Broken watermelons were +scattered far and wide, the luscious juice dripping +over the ground.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_124">[124]</div> +<p>“You wild Indian!” shouted Mr. Meadows. “Look +what you’ve done!”</p> +<p>Jim could only stare in consternation. There must +have been at least a dozen melons broken and no telling +how many cracked. Numbed, he got down from +his horse.</p> +<p>“Gee, I didn’t know they were there, Dad.”</p> +<p>“Obviously. You’ve ruined half my morning’s +work with that crazy horse of yours,” said his father, +the old animosity toward the mustang coming back +in his anger.</p> +<p>“Ticktock just jumped where I told him to,” explained +Jim, who was anxious above all else to remove +any blame from his horse. “It was my fault.”</p> +<p>Ticktock was very calm. He turned around to +survey the damage and became interested in the +broken melons. He had never looked at a melon +closely before and was intrigued. He bent his head +down and took a nibble at some of the ripe red +pulp. It tasted delicious. Curious as to just how a +melon was made, he reached out with a forefoot and +pawed one of the remaining unbroken ones. It +cracked readily, exposing the red interior. Very +pleased with himself, Ticktock took another big +nibble.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_125">[125]</div> +<p>“Will you look at that!” shouted the now enraged +Mr. Meadows. “Not satisfied with breaking half the +pile, that fool horse has to crack another melon and +eat it.”</p> +<p>Jim hadn’t been watching his horse too closely, +but now he grabbed Ticktock’s reins to prevent further +damage.</p> +<p>“I’ll pick some more,” he offered. “I came down +here to help you.”</p> +<p>“You’re certainly a big help,” said his father. +“Get that horse out of my sight. I’ll do better without +you. There’s been enough of this irresponsible +jumping and chasing around here. You should never +have taught him to jump in the first place. How are +you going to keep him any place when he can jump +fences?”</p> +<p>Sadly Jim led his pony out of the garden gate. +It had certainly been a disastrous day. He left the +mustang tied to the orchard fence and went into the +house.</p> +<p>“Now what’s the matter?” asked Mrs. Meadows, +looking at her son’s face as he entered.</p> +<p>“I jumped over the garden fence and landed on +the watermelons Dad was picking.”</p> +<p>Jim’s mother was still irked about her tree; so +she was not too sympathetic.</p> +<p>“You are entirely too wild with that horse of +yours,” she said sternly. “It’s time you stopped being +so heedless.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_126">[126]</div> +<p>Jim considered this additional rebuke for a while +in silence. Everybody was angry with him and no +one cared for Ticktock, he decided. They just weren’t +wanted any more. The only solution was to go away. +He had no idea of running away permanently, but +he felt he had to get away from his troubles.</p> +<p>“Can I have some sandwiches?” he asked. “I want +to make a trip and get away from it all.”</p> +<p>“I guess so,” said Mrs. Meadows, trying not to +smile at her son’s doleful countenance. “When do +you expect to come back from this trip?”</p> +<p>“What do you have for supper?”</p> +<p>“Steak for one thing and apple pie for another.”</p> +<p>“I guess my nerves will be steady enough by suppertime,” +said Jim judiciously.</p> +<p>After he packed his lunch in his saddlebags, Jim +rode off down the road. He decided to carry out his +long delayed project of exploring Briggs Woods. He +had been so busy recently that he had forgotten his +resolve.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_127">[127]</div> +<p>The quiet gloom of the woods just fitted Jim’s +mood of black despondency. After he reached the +center of the forested area, he turned up one of the +little trails that led invitingly into the tangled +depths. He followed the first one for some distance. +It was slow going, winding in and out between the +trees, trying to keep branches from slapping him in +the face. Finally the path just faded and disappeared, +leaving him nowhere. The second and third +attempts were equally unsuccessful. Feeling that +the job of exploring was vastly overrated, Jim decided +to abandon the false trails. He struck off +through the woods, following roughly the course of +a stream. He had no fears about returning, putting +complete trust in Ticktock’s ability to find the way +home.</p> +<p>Deep in the woods he turned from the main stream +and followed a tiny brook up an incline. Suddenly, +to his delight, he came out in a small natural clearing. +There was bright sunshine on the deep grass, +while the little stream trickled away merrily at one +end of the clearing. The open area which was almost +flat was several acres in extent. Tall trees +grew on every side, giving perfect seclusion.</p> +<p>“What a swell hideaway,” Jim said to his horse +excitedly. “There’s plenty of pasture and water for +you and no one could ever find us.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_128">[128]</div> +<p>He began to make plans immediately for his +secret camp. He would bring over his roping dummy +and his jumping bar. At one end of the clearing he +could build a brush hut. As he planned, his ideas +grew larger. He would make a big brush hut, big +enough for Ticktock. In front of it he would build +a fireplace where he could cook. Then, if no one at +home wanted him and Ticktock, they would come +here to live. He could cut some of the hay for the +winter. Perhaps he would also buy some grain and +store it. As for himself, he would trap and hunt for +food. Now and then he would mysteriously appear +in town with valuable furs to sell. He would buy +candy and cakes and other delicacies and then disappear +as mysteriously. People would wonder where +he lived and perhaps try to follow him, but if anyone +came too near the hide-out he would think up +some plan to scare them. Soon they would say the +woods were haunted.</p> +<p>Jim ate his lunch full of all these plans, while +Ticktock unconcernedly cropped the grass. As the +afternoon wore on, Jim decided to wait at least another +day before he became a lonely woodsman. He +would eat one more supper at home since there was +apple pie. He rode home and went in to supper with +an air of secrecy.</p> +<p>There was no crisis at home that evening; so +Jim further delayed his plan of moving. However, +the following day he did take his jumping bar and +his roping dummy to the new hide-out. He also took +a hatchet and spent the better part of several days +building a brush hut which looked very impressive, +even though the brush roof did leak. In front of it +he built his fireplace. He thought about buying some +weiners in town and holding a weiner roast, but +somehow the idea didn’t seem too much fun alone.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_129">[129]</div> +<p>Ticktock and he seemed to be partially forgiven +at home; so Jim stayed on. There was no use becoming +an exile if you didn’t have to, he concluded sensibly. +Still, it seemed a pity to waste such a perfect +hideaway. He used it for roping practice and for +jumping, but it seemed there should be something +more dramatic that he could do.</p> +<p>It was hard to keep the secret of the hide-out to +himself; so Jim began to hint darkly to Jean about +his lonely spot. At first that young lady begged to +be let in on the secret. She wanted to accompany +him to his hidden headquarters and teased and +begged for several days. That suited Jim exactly, +and he went about acting mysterious and important. +However, Jean was not quite so guileless as +her brother thought. Although she was only ten, she +knew a little about handling men, her brother in +particular. She dropped her attitude of pleading and +began to scoff openly.</p> +<p>“You are just making up the whole thing,” she +said derisively. “You haven’t got a secret hangout +any more than I have.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_130">[130]</div> +<p>Several days of complete indifference had its effect +on Jim. He felt he had to prove his story. He +felt a bit guilty about neglecting Jean all summer +anyhow; so he planned a grand picnic. Riding to +town, he bought some weiners, marshmallows and +cookies. The rest of his supplies he secured at home +and got permission from his parents for the excursion.</p> +<p>With Jean mounted behind him, he rode to Briggs +Woods. He felt that revealing the general area of +his hangout was not giving away too much of his +secret. Once in the woods, however, he insisted on +blindfolding his sister, extracting a solemn promise +not to peek. She submitted to having a large red bandanna +tied over her eyes, even enjoying the mystery. +Jim then made his way to the hide-out, making several +unnecessary circles to confuse his companion. +When they arrived in the middle of the clearing he +whisked off the bandage.</p> +<p>Jean looked around at the little clearing expectantly. +There was nothing very exciting.</p> +<p>“Why it’s nothing but a big open space!” she +exclaimed.</p> +<p>“But look what nice pasture there is for Ticktock, +with water and everything,” explained Jim, a trifle +annoyed at the poor impression his headquarters +made.</p> +<p>“Well, that’s nice enough,” admitted Jean who +wasn’t much interested in such details. She wanted +something smaller and much more secret.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_131">[131]</div> +<p>“There’s my hut and fireplace,” said Jim pointing.</p> +<p>“I like that,” said his sister finally, feeling she +had to say something complimentary since her +brother had gone to such trouble to bring her on the +picnic.</p> +<p>They played for a time and then gathered dry +wood for a fire. After they had roasted the weiners +and marshmallows, and stuffed themselves with +cookies, Jim stretched out lazily on the grass. This +was the life. He began to daydream that he was a +cowboy who was hiding his sister from dangerous +kidnappers.</p> +<p>Jean, although she had enjoyed the day immensely, +felt that there was still something being +kept from her. In her mind a hide-out couldn’t be +two acres of open pasture, even though it was concealed +in the middle of a wood. She suspected there +was more to the place than Jim had shown her.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll walk around a little,” she said casually.</p> +<p>“O.K., but don’t go outside of shouting distance,” +warned her brother in a superior tone. “It’s awful +easy to get lost unless you know the woods like Ticktock +and I do.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_132">[132]</div> +<p>One side of the clearing was bounded by a rocky +hill which sloped up abruptly. Jean chose this side +to explore. She started climbing upward through +the rocks. After approximately half an hour went +by, Jim decided it was time that he had some word +from his sister. He was about to shout when he +heard her calling him.</p> +<p>“Jim, guess where I am,” she shouted</p> +<p>“I don’t know; where are you?”</p> +<p>“I’m in your hide-out, smarty!”</p> +<p>Completely puzzled Jim started toward the hillside. +He looked up at the steep rocky slope in bewilderment.</p> +<p>“I can’t see you,” he said finally.</p> +<p>“Here I am,” came her voice from almost over +his head.</p> +<p>Jim looked up as his sister appeared from behind +a short stunted tree about fifteen feet up the face of +what was almost a cliff.</p> +<p>“It’s really a wonderful cave,” said Jean.</p> +<p>“Huh?” exclaimed Jim in complete astonishment.</p> +<p>“Don’t look so surprised because I found it. I +knew there was more to your hideaway than just +a big field.”</p> +<p>Jim found a narrow ledge that made an easy path +up to the tree. When he pulled the stumpy pine tree +to one side there was the narrow entrance to the +cave. It was a dark opening about two feet wide and +four feet high.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_133">[133]</div> +<p>“As long as you found it you might as well see +the inside,” said Jim, trying to talk casually. “I’ll +run down and get the flash light.”</p> +<p>He didn’t quite keep the excitement out of his +voice, and Jean looked after him with growing suspicion. +When he returned they made their way inside +excitedly.</p> +<p>“How big is it?” asked Jean as she followed her +brother through the opening.</p> +<p>“Why—uh—just medium,” answered Jim, trying +to flash his light around quickly in order to answer +the question correctly.</p> +<p>There was only one room to the cave, but it was +spacious and dry. The ceiling arched above their +heads at least twelve feet. Along one of the stone +walls there was a natural ledge at just the right +height for a bed or a seat.</p> +<p>“This will make a swell place,” said Jim incautiously.</p> +<p>“I don’t think you have ever been in here before,” +accused Jean. “Have you?”</p> +<p>“Well, not exactly,” hedged Jim not wanting to +tell an outright lie.</p> +<p>“Is there another cave?” asked Jean.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_134">[134]</div> +<p>“Not that I know of. All there was to my hide-out +I showed you. The trick is in finding your way here. +You don’t seem to realize how important a pasture +is to a secret headquarters. A cowboy has to have +some place for his horse to graze. What good would +a cave do? You couldn’t keep a horse in a cave.”</p> +<p>“I’d rather play pirate or robbers,” decided Jean. +“Then a cave would be perfect. You wouldn’t need +a pasture or a horse either.”</p> +<p>As they resaddled Ticktock and prepared to leave, +Jean continued her argument.</p> +<p>“I think the hide-out should be half mine since I +discovered the cave,” she maintained.</p> +<p>Jim pondered the question thoroughly. Jean’s demands +did seem fair, for the cave certainly added +tremendously to the hide-out. Still, if the emergency +arose and he had to return to his original +plan of disappearing with Ticktock, he didn’t want +Jean to know his whereabouts. A woman could +never keep a secret, and she would certainly tell her +parents. No, unfair as it seemed, he would have to +keep his headquarters to himself.</p> +<p>Protesting bitterly, Jean was blindfolded. “It +isn’t fair,” she stormed.</p> +<p>Jim was firm, however, so they rode off toward +home. Since Jean felt her brother was being very +unjust, she decided she no longer had to keep her +promise not to peek. While Jim was busy keeping +the branches from hitting them in the face, she took +cautious peeps from beneath the handkerchief.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_135">[135]</div> +<h2 id="c9"><br />Chapter Nine +<br />The Lost Horse</h2> +<p>Business took a midsummer slump, and Jim +found time hanging heavy on his hands. +There were few calls for his services from +the general public, and even Colonel Flesher had +no cattle to be driven to market. Jim tried to persuade +the stock buyer that it would be cheaper to +drive hogs to town than to truck them. While the +colonel had much confidence in his young assistant, +he wisely concluded that driving hogs was beyond +even Jim and Ticktock.</p> +<p>Jim still went to town almost daily, partly to +exercise his mustang and partly because he liked to +hang around the newspaper office. He helped wherever +possible, but probably hindered more than he +helped, as he had so many questions. The linotype +machine fascinated him, and he begged Bill Arnold +to let him learn how to operate it.</p> +<p>“If I do,” said the editor jokingly, “the first thing +I know you’ll have that horse in here helping you. +I’m afraid his feet would be too heavy for the +keys.”</p> +<p>“I need something to do,” urged Jim. “There’s a +fierce depression in my line of business.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_136">[136]</div> +<p>“Your overhead is low though,” pointed out Arnold. +“That cayuse of yours is getting his feed from +my back yard.”</p> +<p>“Operating expenses may be low right now, but +there is a long winter ahead,” said Jim with a worried +frown. His cash was accumulating too slowly +to suit him.</p> +<p>One day Arnold came out of his office waving a +slip of paper. “Here’s a fine opportunity for you and +that wonderful horse to show your stuff.”</p> +<p>“A big job?” asked Jim excitedly.</p> +<p>“Do you happen to know Mr. Hernstadt?” asked +the editor.</p> +<p>“I know where his farm is,” said Jim. “He has +all those big fat work horses.” Any horse that didn’t +resemble Ticktock in size and build was an object +of contempt to Jim.</p> +<p>“Well, those big fat horses are very valuable +Percherons. Hernstadt is one of the finest breeders +in the Middle West. Anyhow, his prize mare got out +of the pasture somehow and is lost.”</p> +<p>“Work horses must be dumb,” said Jim with conviction. +“You could never lose Ticktock.”</p> +<p>“Young man, will you quit bragging about that +mustang long enough to listen to what I am telling +you?”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” said Jim, who really wasn’t at all.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_137">[137]</div> +<p>“This mare strayed away two days ago, and +Hernstadt has looked all over for her. Now he is +advertising, offering a reward of twenty-five dollars +for her return.”</p> +<p>“Twenty-five dollars!” exclaimed Jim. “How I’d +like to find that horse!”</p> +<p>“This is scarcely ethical,” said Arnold. “The +paper isn’t delivered until tomorrow; so I’m giving +you a twenty-four-hour advantage over my other +subscribers.”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t give you away for anything. When I +find the horse, I’ll wait until the paper is out before +I take it back to Mr. Hernstadt.”</p> +<p>“Rather confident, aren’t you?” asked Arnold +laughing.</p> +<p>“Well, it couldn’t very well be stolen; a big horse +like that would be too easy to trace. She’s just +strayed, and Ticktock and I will find her.” Jim got +up decisively. “If I can take a look at your big map, +I’ll be on my way to locate that dumb horse that +got lost.”</p> +<p>After carefully studying the map, Jim drew +a little sketch. He put Mr. Hernstadt’s farm in +the middle and then drew in all the roads in the +surrounding territory. He mounted Ticktock and +galloped importantly out of town. It was only midmorning, +and he explored the country roads and +lanes for several hours before hunger drove him +home.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_138">[138]</div> +<p>“I have to be gone all afternoon on a very important +mission,” he announced as he was eating +lunch.</p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Meadows just smiled and asked no +questions. They were used to Jim’s acting mysterious +and important. Jean, however, followed him out +into the yard. Her curiosity was definitely aroused.</p> +<p>“Where are you going?” she teased. “I won’t tell +on you.”</p> +<p>“I gave a cowboy’s word not to tell,” said Jim +saddling Ticktock.</p> +<p>“Well, I think you’re mean,” said Jean. “You +aren’t good to me at all any more.”</p> +<p>Jim considered this a moment as he cinched up +the saddle. He still felt a little guilty about the matter +of the hideaway. After all, Jean wouldn’t be +going anywhere to tell anyone. The secret would be +safe.</p> +<p>“There’s a big reward going to be offered tomorrow +for a lost horse,” he said finally. “I’m going to +find him before anyone knows about the reward.”</p> +<p>“What kind of a horse?”</p> +<p>“A prize Percheron mare of Mr. Hernstadt’s.”</p> +<p>“If you find her, how are you going to catch her?” +asked Jean, who was a practical young lady.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_139">[139]</div> +<p>“Why, Ticktock could catch any slow old Percheron,” +said Jim scornfully. Actually he hadn’t +thought about what he would do after locating the +missing horse.</p> +<p>“I don’t mean catch up <i>with</i> her. How are you +going to put a halter on her if she’s the kind of horse +that runs away?”</p> +<p>“Well,” drawled Jim, who had just had an idea. +“I’ve been doing a lot of practicing with my lariat. +I think I could lasso a slow-moving horse.”</p> +<p>While his admiring and envious sister gazed after +him, Jim rode away. All afternoon he jogged back +and forth, up and down the hills, carefully covering +the territory of his map. The sun was hot and the +country roads were dusty.</p> +<p>What had begun as an adventurous hunt, turned +out to be a tedious job. At sundown he turned +toward home. He was very tired and so was Ticktock. +Most of the roads were now crossed off the +map. Only a few were left unexplored.</p> +<p>That night Jim lay in bed considering the problem. +The mail would be delivered at about eleven +the next morning and then everyone would be on the +lookout for the missing mare. He would have to +work fast.</p> +<p>At breakfast the next morning Jim asked to be +excused from the remaining chores.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_140">[140]</div> +<p>“What is this mysterious mission?” asked Mr. +Meadows good-naturedly.</p> +<p>“Jean can tell you,” said Jim who was deep in +thought as to the possible whereabouts of the stray. +They would know as soon as the paper arrived anyhow.</p> +<p>“Mr. Hernstadt lost one of his Percherons. There +is going to be a reward in the morning paper and +Jim is going to find her before anyone else knows +about it,” said Jean importantly. It never occured +to her to doubt her brother’s abilities or success. +After all, he had said he would find the horse so +find the horse he would.</p> +<p>“Oh, he is, is he?” asked Mr. Meadows. “How?”</p> +<p>“He has a map,” said Jean who considered that a +final answer. “After he finds her he is going to +catch her with Ticktock and then rope her. All he +has to do then is collect the reward.”</p> +<p>“I hope it’s as simple as it sounds,” said Mr. +Meadows. “Anyhow, I think I can do the rest of the +chores myself while you’re off performing this little +task.”</p> +<p>Jim also hoped it was as simple as it sounded. As +he rode off he wished he hadn’t spoken so confidently +either to the editor or to Jean. He was on the spot +now. He had to find the horse. He urged Ticktock +to a faster pace.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_141">[141]</div> +<p>Noon found the boy and his horse covered with a +blanket of dust and discouragement. The allotted +territory was exhausted and there was still no horse. +Of course, the Percheron could have strayed farther +than Jim had expected. He considered enlarging his +area. That idea didn’t seem too promising, as by now +everyone in the countryside would know about the +reward. Feeling rather low in spirits and very hot, +he turned toward Briggs Woods. He had already +explored the road through the woods and all the +open trails, but at least it was cool there and Ticktock +could have a drink of water.</p> +<p>Once in the cool cover of the forest, Jim turned +toward his hideaway. He would take a rest there +and eat his lunch. He was picking his way moodily +through the trees when Ticktock suddenly decided +to go off toward the left. Somewhat annoyed, Jim +pulled the mustang back in the direction of the hideout. +A few minutes later the pony again veered off +to the left. This time he put his nose in the air and +neighed.</p> +<p>“What is it, boy?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>Ticktock stood still and neighed a second time. +This time there was an answer from the depths of +the woods. Excitedly Jim urged the pony forward, +giving him his head. Ticktock threaded his way +through the trees confidently. After a short distance +Jim suddenly saw through the woods the figure of +a big gray horse.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_142">[142]</div> +<p>“Hurrah! Ticktock, you found her!” he shouted.</p> +<p>He uncoiled his lasso as he approached. He was +going to make good his boasts after all. Triumphantly +he started to swing his rope. He made two +circles around his head and the rope caught on the +limb of a tree and fell in a tangle about his shoulders. +He straightened out the lariat and tried again. +This time the noose caught on a limb and refused to +come loose. Feeling very uncowboylike, Jim dismounted, +climbed the tree, and freed his lasso.</p> +<p>Half an hour later Jim was still trying. Either +the rope would catch on a branch or the horse would +move away just as he cast. He couldn’t use a very +large noose due to the crowding branches, and somehow +a limb always protected the mare’s head or she +moved just in time to make the small noose whiz by +harmlessly. Being hit on the head a number of times +by a rope wasn’t making the Percheron any more +approachable either. She was definitely getting tired +of the game and fast becoming skittish.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_143">[143]</div> +<p>Ticktock watched his master’s endeavors patiently +for a long time. He was used to Jim’s games and at +first thought this was another form of roping practice. +Gradually, however, he began to realize that +Jim was really trying to rope the mare for some +purpose. He could sense the disappointment after +each unsuccessful try. Also, Ticktock was getting +tired of going through trees after the mare. He had +been going steadily all morning and felt like stopping. +So he decided to end all this nonsense. While +Jim was resting after a particularly strenuous cast, +Ticktock took charge. He gave a soft neigh and then +waited. The mare neighed back.</p> +<p>Ticktock turned his head around and gave a long +look at his rider. There was no mistaking his meaning. +“You’ve had your chance, now let me try,” he +seemed to say. Very slowly and patiently he made +his way toward the mare. Jim sat quietly in the +saddle. Finally Ticktock stopped and stood waiting. +After a few more exchanges of nickers, the mare +walked over to the mustang and the two horses began +to rub noses. Gradually Ticktock edged around +until they were side by side. Jim reached over and +slipped one end of his rope around the mare’s neck. +The chase was ended.</p> +<p>He led the mare back to the hideaway and tied +her to a tree. He took off Ticktock’s saddle and the +pony rolled gratefully in the tall grass. Jim sat +down to eat his lunch, feeling very satisfied and +happy. Ticktock was certainly a smart horse; he +knew how to do everything. Now they could go back +home in triumph. That seemed even more important +than the reward. There was no question about it; +his horse had saved the day.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_144">[144]</div> +<div class="img" id="p144"> +<img src="images/p144.jpg" alt="Roping a horse" width="500" height="361" /> +</div> +<p>As he thought about how creditable Ticktock’s +part had been, Jim began to grow dissatisfied with +his own performance. He had fallen down on the +roping. He couldn’t very well go back and tell how +he had finally caught the horse. There wasn’t anything +very dashing about that. Something had to be +done.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_145">[145]</div> +<p>He got up, saddled Ticktock, and led the mare out +to the middle of the clearing. Very gently he undid +the rope from her neck, talking soothingly all the +time. While the mare contentedly cropped the grass, +Jim backed Ticktock away a few feet. He swung his +lariat quietly and slowly. He leaned forward and +when the mare looked up he cast. The noose dropped +squarely over her head.</p> +<p>With a sigh of relief, Jim rode up to the mare. +He tied a knot so the noose would not choke the +Percheron and then rode off through the trees, leading +his valuable captive.</p> +<p>Home was only slightly out of his way to the +Hernstadt farm and Jim could not resist the temptation +to display the mare. Trying to appear very +casual and unexcited, he rode up the lane. His father +had just come in from the field when he arrived; so +the entire family came out to meet him. It was a +very satisfactory entrance.</p> +<p>“Where did you find her?” asked Mr. Meadows +who was plainly amazed.</p> +<p>“Over in Briggs Woods. Ticktock found her and +I roped her,” said Jim very calmly, but with a +twinge of conscience.</p> +<p>“You and that horse continually dumfound me,” +said Mr. Meadows.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_146">[146]</div> +<p>Jim went inside and telephoned Mr. Hernstadt +that his missing horse had been found. The pleased +owner offered to come over after the mare but Jim +insisted on delivering her. Before he left he called +the editor.</p> +<p>“You can take that ad out of the paper,” he told +Arnold with a pardonable amount of pride in his +voice. “I am on my way to take the mare home +right now.”</p> +<p>Arnold insisted on knowing a few details which +Jim gave him with pretended reluctance. After all, +as Mr. Morgan had said, what a business needs is +publicity. Besides it would look nice in the paper +about his roping the runaway horse. That would +really make the other boys’ eyes bug out.</p> +<p>When Jim delivered the horse that afternoon, Mr. +Hernstadt handed him twenty-five dollars gladly. +He listened to the account of how the horse had been +found.</p> +<p>“The man that helped me take care of the horses +left a few months ago to run a farm of his own,” +the horse breeder explained. “I’ve been so busy that +I didn’t notice the fence needed repairing in one +corner. That’s how she got out. Now that you have +found the horse you don’t suppose you could find me +a good man to help take care of her and the other +horses?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Jim considering the matter seriously, +“the Pony Express does all sorts of things. I’ll see +what I can do.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_147">[147]</div> +<h2 id="c10"><br />Chapter Ten +<br />Ticktock Disappears</h2> +<p>With the twenty-five dollars reward money +added to his previous earnings, Jim now +had over fifty dollars. Fifty dollars was +more money than he had ever seen before and +seemed like the largest sum in the world. It must be +adequate, he felt, to cover the cost of Ticktock’s feed +for the winter. Mr. Meadows had not brought up +the subject, and Jim was content to keep the unannounced +truce. His father seemed to be over his +anger about the watermelons. Jim reasoned that if +the matter of Ticktock’s board was never mentioned, +he would be foolish to call attention to it. It was +simple arithmetic—he would be fifty dollars wealthier +if he let sleeping dogs lie. If Mr. Meadows did +raise the question, Jim was prepared. If necessary, +he figured he could even pay for Ticktock’s keep +elsewhere, although it would have broken his heart +to have the mustang where he could not be seen and +ridden daily. Still, such a course would be better +than having to give up the pony in the fall as his +father had threatened.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_148">[148]</div> +<p>All over fifty dollars Jim felt he was free to spend. +As he earned money from odd jobs, he began using +it to stock his hideaway. He bought cans of pork +and beans, sausages, corned beef, vegetables, fruits, +soups, condensed milk, and even one can of Boston +brown bread. Anything that came in cans or packages +that seemed safe from spoilage was carefully +stowed away in the cave. He was frugal about the +process, preferring to take quietly those items that +were in plentiful supply at home rather than spend +his hard-earned money.</p> +<p>For quite a while now, Jim had been allowed to +take food from the pantry for his picnics and all-day +trips without asking for specific permission, +provided there was plenty on hand of what he needed. +In case of doubt, it was understood that he ask his +mother. It was the same with anything that his +mother had piled on the left-hand side of the attic. +Both he and Jean could take anything they wished +from the accumulation there.</p> +<p>Now, therefore, to the supplies which he bought +with his own money, he added from the family cupboard +sugar, coffee, tea, salt, pepper and a small +quantity of flour. These he put carefully in jars +that he picked up. In the same manner he slowly +accumulated a set of battered pots and pans, two +plates, and a few odd knives and forks, as well +as an old blanket and a torn quilt from the +attic.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_149">[149]</div> +<p>The only difference between what he did this time +and what he had done before was that he didn’t say +a word to his mother about it all. Since always before +he had talked over his plans with her, he now +had a guilty feeling.</p> +<p>“I’ll keep a list of everything,” he said to himself, +“and show it to Mother later on.”</p> +<p>It was so much more exciting to act mysteriously +and in secret. It made the cave a real hide-out, +something that belonged to him alone.</p> +<p>The quilt and blanket were the last items he +needed to complete his preparations. Since he +couldn’t very well ride out of the yard with them +without causing questions, he slipped out one evening +and hid them a respectable distance down the +road. The next morning when he had finished his +work, he saddled Ticktock and rode off to recover +them. As he stopped to pick up his bedding, he was +congratulating himself on how secretly he had managed +everything. He looked under the little bush +where he had left them the previous evening but the +quilt and blanket were gone. With a puzzled frown +on his tanned face, he tried to figure out the mystery. +There was little traffic on the road past the +farm and no reason why anyone would be prompted +to stop at this spot and discover his bedding. Very +annoyed, he looked up and down the road to see if +there was any other bush he could possibly have +confused with this one.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_150">[150]</div> +<p>“Looking for your blankets?” asked a teasing +voice.</p> +<p>Jim looked up, and there was his sister Jean sitting +on the opposite side of the road. She held his +missing loot in her arms.</p> +<p>“What are you doing here?” Jim demanded, very +crestfallen at being caught.</p> +<p>“What are you doing with these?” asked Jean +promptly.</p> +<p>“Oh, I was just going to use them somewhere!” +said Jim in confusion. He tried to think fast. “I +thought I might go fishing and want a soft place to +lean back on while I fished.”</p> +<p>“Funny you’d go to all this trouble just to take +some blankets with you fishing,” observed Jean with +mockery in her voice. “You forgot your fish pole +too.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s none of your business,” replied Jim +lamely.</p> +<p>“Yes, it is,” said Jean. “You were taking them +to the hideaway and the hideaway is part mine.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be silly. Whatever gave you the idea I +was taking them there?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_151">[151]</div> +<p>“Oh, I’ve been watching things,” said Jean +calmly. “Let’s see, you’ve got sugar, coffee, plates, +cups and two jars of peaches. Of course, I don’t +know what you might have bought in town. Where +else would you take all that stuff except to the +cave?”</p> +<p>“Well, all right, the stuff was for the cave. Now +what good does it do you to know?”</p> +<p>“None, unless I know where the cave is. But +you’re going to show me now.”</p> +<p>“Like fun I am.”</p> +<p>“Either you spill the beans or I’ll squeal.” Jean +had read enough comic strips that she could talk +like a thug, and this was an occasion when she felt +she had to act tough.</p> +<p>“You promised not to tell when I took you to the +hideaway,” objected Jim.</p> +<p>“Yes, but I didn’t promise not to tell about all +this stuff you’ve been stealing.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t really stealing,” protested Jim.</p> +<p>“It looks like stealing to me,” said Jean with infuriating +calmness. “You took a bunch of junk but +you didn’t ask.”</p> +<p>Jim felt trapped. He still didn’t consider his recent +activities thievery, but that wasn’t the important +part. If Jean talked, his parents would ask +embarrassing questions about what he had done +with the articles. They would know he had a secret +headquarters, which spoiled half the mystery. It +was better that Jean knew, than everyone. Thus far +she had kept very quiet about what she already +knew.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_152">[152]</div> +<p>“Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll take you there on your +birthday,” he offered finally.</p> +<p>Jean considered thoughtfully. “That’s three weeks +away.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but I’m awful busy now. Besides, wouldn’t +it be a nice birthday present—making you a full +partner in the hideaway. I’ve got a lot of things +there I bought at the grocery store and you can have +half of them.” Jim hoped she would forget about the +matter in three weeks. He didn’t expect it, but it +was a possibility.</p> +<p>“All right, on my birthday.”</p> +<p>“O.K. Give me the blankets and remember, don’t +tell anyone.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I won’t, now that everything is going to be +half mine!” said Jean with decision. “What are you +going to do with all the stuff anyway?”</p> +<p>That question rather stumped Jim. He hadn’t +gone into the reason behind all his activity in stocking +the cave. He had long ago forgotten his idea of +going there to live the life of a hermit. In the thrill +of secretly gathering a hoard of food and utensils +he hadn’t given much thought as to the purpose of +it all.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_153">[153]</div> +<p>“Well, I hadn’t thought about that too much,” he +admitted frankly. “It’s just fun to have the stuff in +the cave. I can pretend I’m an outlaw hiding out. +Maybe Mother will let me camp out all night sometime.”</p> +<p>“Well, we could pretend we were shipwrecked on +an island or that we were in a war and surrounded +by enemies, and lots of things,” suggested Jean.</p> +<p>“Good ideas,” said Jim. “Well, I better be going. +I’ll take you there on your birthday.” He rode off +feeling that Jean might not be such a bad partner +to share his hide-out. She was resourceful and she +had imagination. Also, there was still three weeks +in which he could enjoy the secret in solitary +splendor.</p> +<p>Jean watched her brother disappear down the +road. She had earned a victory, but three weeks was +a long time. She walked back to the house with a +very thoughtful look on her determined young face. +She had been doing much thinking and observing, +and she wasn’t going to stop and wait calmly for +her birthday.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_154">[154]</div> +<p>Jim delivered his blankets to the cave. After +gloating over his very respectable pile of provisions, +he made himself a pot of coffee. It was a lot of +trouble, and he didn’t care too much for coffee, particularly +with a lot of grounds, as his somehow always +managed to have. Still it was fun. He washed +the pot in the stream, scouring it carefully with +sand before replacing it in the cave.</p> +<p>On his way back home he made a detour to go by +the railroad tracks. It was about time for the morning +freight to pass by, and he enjoyed watching the +long train labor slowly up a hill which was about a +mile from the farm. Arriving at a good point of +vantage near a stream at the foot of the hill, he +dismounted to sit by the roadside. Ticktock grazed +contentedly while Jim chewed on a long stem of +grass.</p> +<p>In a few minutes the train came whistling around +the bend at full speed, trying for a head start up +the hill. Jim counted the cars as they appeared, his +largest total was fifty-seven and he had hoped this +freight would break the record, for the engine slowed +and began laboring the moment it hit the upgrade. +As the sixteenth car appeared around the curve, he +forgot about counting. A figure was running along +the top of the boxcars toward the engine, looking +frantically over his shoulder every few minutes. +About ten cars later Jim saw the cause of the excitement. +A second man was pursuing the first, but +the latter did not seem particularly worried.</p> +<p>“Railroad cop,” thought Jim. “He’s trying to +catch that hobo.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_155">[155]</div> +<p>The first man apparently realized that he didn’t +have too far to run before he reached the engine. +He stopped in his flight and began clambering down +the side of one of the freight cars. The train had +slowed considerably now that it was part way up +the hill. The man looked down at the ground and +then up at the car tops where his pursuer was hidden +from view. Then he jumped. The leap occurred almost +at the point where the tracks crossed the +trestle over the stream. Jim could not tell if the man +landed on the ground or in the water. In either case, +he must be badly shaken up, for although the train +had lost much of its speed it was still traveling at +a respectable rate.</p> +<p>It was several hundred yards to the trestle, so, +deciding that it would be quicker to ride than to +walk, Jim dashed for his horse. Unfortunately, +Ticktock had strayed up the road looking for choice +bunches of clover. By the time Jim had run to his +horse, mounted, and then ridden over to the trestle, +several minutes had elapsed. Pulling Ticktock to a +dust-raising stop that would have done credit to a +Western movie, Jim slid to the ground. There was +no mangled corpse in sight. He rushed to the edge +of the bank bordering the stream and peered down. +Still there was nothing to be seen. As there were a +number of bushes, weeds and stunted trees on the +steep banks, whoever had jumped might be lying +unconscious behind some clump. There was nothing +to do but make a search.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_156">[156]</div> +<div class="img" id="p156"> +<img src="images/p156.jpg" alt="Searching near the track" width="500" height="250" /> +</div> +<p>Jim climbed up and down the sloping sides of the +stream covering the area where anyone might possibly +have fallen. When his efforts turned out to be +fruitless, he decided there could be only one other +solution. If the man had landed in the stream, there +was sufficient water to carry him along to the shallows +on the other side of the bridge. Although the +water was only a few feet deep, an injured or unconscious +man could drown. Working his way downstream +under the bridge, Jim reached the shallows +about a hundred yards on the other side of the tracks +without finding any body. Puzzled, he decided to +give up the search. Perhaps he had just imagined +someone had jumped. As he was slowly making his +way back, he heard the sound of rapid hoofbeats. +Panic-stricken, he rushed as fast as he could along +the slanting banks. He clambered to the top and +looked around for Ticktock. The mustang was gone.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_157">[157]</div> +<p>He looked up the road and there disappearing in +the distance was his beloved horse. Hunched over +the pony’s back, urging him to greater speed, was +the figure of a man.</p> +<p>“Come back, you dirty horse thief!” screamed +Jim at the top of his lungs, with rage and panic +in his voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_158">[158]</div> +<p>He continued to shout uselessly as the figure of +the horse and rider grew smaller in the distance. +Finally a curve in the road hid them from view. +Heartbroken, Jim sat down by the side of the road. +He buried his face in his hands and his body shook +with sobs. It was a disaster much worse than any +he could possibly have imagined. His beloved mustang +had been stolen. He sat by the roadside for a +long time before he looked up. The cheery sunshine +of a few minutes earlier had suddenly become hard +and bitter. The bright world had turned ugly, drab +and cruel.</p> +<p>Finally he got to his feet and started plodding dejectedly +down the road. It was a long desolate walk. +Each step seemed to take him farther from Ticktock. +His parents saw him when he finally came forlornly +up the lane. With his slow pace and sorrowful face, +he was a heartbreaking sight.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Jimmy?” asked his mother, +running to meet him.</p> +<p>“Someone stole Ticktock,” he said with a quavering +voice.</p> +<p>“Stole Ticktock?” asked Mr. Meadows incredulously. +“How did it happen?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_159">[159]</div> +<p>“I saw a man jump off a freight,” said Jim +slowly. “I thought maybe he was hurt. While I was +hunting for him, he stole Ticktock. He must have +been hiding behind some bush.”</p> +<p>“Why the dirty rat,” said Mr. Meadows, his rage +mounting as he listened to the details. While he had +threatened to get rid of the horse a few months +earlier, now the idea that anyone would steal his +son’s mustang made him furious. “I’m going in to +call the sheriff. That horse is so well known the +thief won’t be able to get far. We’ll get Ticktock +back, Jim.”</p> +<p>Two days went by, and they didn’t get Ticktock +back.</p> +<p>The sheriff passed the alarm to surrounding +towns, while the Springdale <i>Gazette</i> carried big +headlines warning everyone to be on the lookout. It +forgot its usual joking tone about Jim and his horse +and seriously asked everyone to cooperate in the +search. Bill Arnold even had a front-page editorial +on the subject.</p> +<p>Jim sat at the telephone waiting for news, but +there was no joyous message. He was grief-stricken +and refused to be consoled.</p> +<p>“Don’t feel so bad,” said Mrs. Meadows comfortingly. +“You have money enough to buy another +horse.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_160">[160]</div> +<p>“I don’t want another horse. I want Ticktock,” +said Jim.</p> +<p>While he was deep in misery, Jim did not lose +hope. Somehow he felt that Ticktock would escape +from the thief and return. He was confident that no +matter how far the mustang might be ridden he +would discover the way back home. The third day +following the theft was Saturday. The family tried +to persuade Jim to go to town to take his mind off +his loss, but he was firm in insisting on staying +home. A message was sent to Colonel Flesher that he +would not be in for work for the sale. Ticktock +might possibly return, Jim felt, and he wanted to +be home to greet him.</p> +<p>Jim sat sadly on the front porch after the family +left for town, looking up and down the road hoping +to see the mustang. Three days was a long time. A +man could ride a horse a great distance in that +length of time. Still Jim kept gazing at the road +hopefully. Suddenly he jumped up and rubbed his +eyes. He had been searching so long that he thought +he was now dreaming. He looked again and still saw +the same wonderful sight. Ticktock was jogging +contentedly down the road toward home.</p> +<p>Jim ran to the gate to meet his horse. He threw +his arms around the pony’s neck and hugged him +through sheer joy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_161">[161]</div> +<p>“You came back, boy, you came back!” he cried +happily.</p> +<p>Ticktock closed one eye and winked. He wasn’t a +demonstrative horse.</p> +<p>As Jim started to lead his prodigal pony into the +yard, he noticed for the first time that Ticktock +wore no bridle.</p> +<p>“So you had to slip your bridle to get away,” he +said. “Well, you did a good job. We’ll get another +old bridle. I’ll bet you’re tired and hungry. You +must have come a long way; so I’ll take the saddle +off and let you rest.”</p> +<p>When the saddle was removed, there was very +little perspiration beneath the blanket. The hair was +scarcely ruffled. Jim stood back and looked at Ticktock +in puzzlement.</p> +<p>“You don’t look as if you had come so far,” he +observed. “In fact, you look as if you had just been +groomed.”</p> +<p>He opened one of the saddlebags. He usually carried +a curry comb and brush with him so that he +could use them in odd moments. The implements +were still there, but it was hard to tell if they had +been used. Whatever the thief had used, Ticktock +had obviously been groomed only a short time before. +The pony didn’t look tired either, but acted +quite fresh and frisky.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_162">[162]</div> +<p>Noticing that the other saddlebag bulged suspiciously, +Jim opened it. There, folded neatly, was the +missing bridle.</p> +<p>“Now why would anyone fold up a bridle and put +it in the saddlebag?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>Ticktock didn’t answer but just nuzzled his master +contentedly.</p> +<p>“If someone wasn’t going to ride you for a while,” +said Jim musingly to his pony, “he would take off +your saddle as well as your bridle. If he was going +to ride you in a few minutes, he either wouldn’t +take off the bridle at all or at most hang it on a tree +limb or the saddle horn. But that bridle was carefully +put away in the saddlebag. There’s something +fishy here. I don’t believe that thief is so far from +here.”</p> +<p>The more Jim thought about the matter, the more +puzzled he became. But no matter what the solution, +he was very angry with whoever had stolen +his horse. According to all the books he had read and +movies he had seen, a horse thief was considered +three degrees lower than a murderer. Jim agreed +with the Western idea. Turning over such thoughts +in his mind, he finally came to a decision. He +saddled Ticktock, put on the bridle and then went +into the house. He opened the closet to his father’s +room and carefully got out a twenty-two rifle. He +had been forbidden to touch his father’s firearms, +but he felt this case was different. There was a +heavy deer gun in the closet too, but that looked too +forbidding. He found five twenty-two long shells in +his father’s bureau, which he carefully stuck in his +pocket. It was a single shot rifle, and he knew how +to load it.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_163">[163]</div> +<p>Going back downstairs, he found a pencil and +paper and wrote a short note that he left lying on +the kitchen table.</p> +<blockquote> +<p><i>Dear Dad and Mom:</i></p> +<p><i>Ticktock came back and is all right. I have gone +to look for that low-down horse thief. If I catch him +alive, I hope they hang him.</i></p> +<p><span class="jr"><i>Jim</i></span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Very grim-faced, Jim mounted and rode off in +the direction from which Ticktock had come. He +had no idea where he was going to hunt for the +thief, but to hunt anywhere was a form of action. +He jogged along, so overjoyed to be back on his horse +once more that he paid little attention to where the +pony was heading. Suddenly he realized that he was +entering Briggs Wood. At the proper point Ticktock +turned off the road toward the hideaway.</p> +<p>“Well, we might as well go there as anywhere +else,” said Jim cheerfully. He really didn’t have +much hope of locating the thief anyhow.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_164">[164]</div> +<p>At the clearing, Jim dismounted to stretch his +legs. He sat down contentedly on a big rock by his +fireplace.</p> +<p>“Well, here we are, back together again at the +old hangout, Ticktock,” he observed happily to the +pony.</p> +<p>He tossed a rock into the ashes of the fireplace. +Nothing could keep him and his mustang down. +Then he noticed that the disturbed ashes were smoking +slightly. Alarmed, he poked in the fireplace with +a stick. There was no doubt that a fire had been +built there recently. Clutching his gun, he looked +around at the trees.</p> +<p>“Someone has been here in our hide-out,” he confided +softly to Ticktock.</p> +<p>The pony was not grazing as usual but looking +around inquiringly. Frowning fiercely, Jim tried to +feel as brave as he looked. Cautiously he peered inside +the brush hut. It was empty; so he began to +make a slow circuit of the clearing, staying well +back in the trees. He was approaching the lower +end near the stream, trying to move silently over +the rocky ground when he stumbled over something +projecting from a low bush. He spun around with +his rifle ready, completely forgetting that he had +never loaded the gun. There was a stir in the bush +and then a man’s face peered out. Two sleep-clouded +eyes looked at Jim and his rifle. The eyes opened +wide and lost their sleepiness.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_165">[165]</div> +<p>“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I give up,” said a +frightened voice.</p> +<h2 id="c11"><br />Chapter Eleven +<br />The Conspirators</h2> +<p>It was difficult to say which of the two was the +more frightened, the man in the bushes or Jim. +The only difference was that Jim held a rifle. +He didn’t know quite what to do with it as all his +training had been to the effect that he should never +point the muzzle of a gun at anyone. So he waved +the gun around uncertainly, first pointing it at the +man and then away. The erratic maneuvers of the +gun muzzle served to terrify the stranger even more.</p> +<p>“Don’t shoot!” he repeated, his frightened eyes +going back and forth as they followed the end of the +waving gun barrel with a horrified fascination.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_166">[166]</div> +<p>The man presented a very odd sight. He was +short, but with abnormally broad shoulders and +powerful arms. His heavily muscled body was +stripped to the waist, and he wore nothing but a +pair of faded khaki trousers. This garment was +crumpled and dirty with several jagged tears in the +legs. He was both barefooted and bareheaded. His +brown weathered face and arms had numerous partially +healed scratches and cuts. At first Jim received +an impression of villainous ferocity caused +by the man’s mangled face. Then as he calmed down +he saw the stranger had an ugly but rather pleasant +countenance. Also, that powerful chest looked rather +gaunt, for the ribs were beginning to show. Jim +looked at his captive in uncertainty, unable to decide +whether to feel angry, terrified, or sorry for +the man.</p> +<p>“Did you steal my horse?” he asked finally, when +he found his voice. He tried to sound stern, but his +voice insisted on quavering.</p> +<p>“No, sir!” denied the stranger, who was more +frightened because Jim was obviously excited than +he would have been had the boy been calm and +steady. “I borrowed a horse a couple of days ago but +I took good care of him and turned him loose so he +could go home.”</p> +<p>Jim thought this over for a minute. The evidence +of the bridle and Ticktock’s recent grooming pointed +to the truth of the statement.</p> +<p>“Why’d you borrow him?” he asked. “I went down +to the railroad tracks to see if you were hurt, and +you ran off with my horse.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_167">[167]</div> +<p>“I was scared,” said the man frankly. “I didn’t +see you were a boy. A railroad cop had just chased +me off that freight. I thought maybe they had +rangers in this state like they have in Texas +and one was after me for bumming a ride. I just +lost my head and ran.”</p> +<p>“How did you get here?” Jim was very annoyed +at anyone’s finding his hideaway.</p> +<p>“After I got on the horse I just rode away as fast +as I could. When I came to this woods I slowed down +and let that little horse walk along. All of a sudden +he turned off the road and came here. It looked as +good a spot as any, so I stayed.”</p> +<p>The explanation was very logical. For once Jim +wished that Ticktock would refrain from displaying +his intelligence to others. It was all right to be +smart, but to take a stranger to the secret hideaway +was another matter.</p> +<p>“We’ll go back to the clearing,” he said firmly, +motioning with his gun.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” the captive moved forward promptly. +Jim marched behind the man, his nervousness +gone. His brown hands held the gun steadily, and +there was a serious frown on his normally cheerful +face. He couldn’t quite figure out the situation. The +stranger seemed perfectly frank and straightforward +in his manner and didn’t look like a horse +thief should. According to Jim’s conceptions, a +horse thief should be a sullen, villainous man with +a mustache and a long scar on his cheek. This man +was a good-natured, honest-appearing person.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_168">[168]</div> +<p>When they arrived at the clearing, Ticktock was +standing near the brush hut. The man walked up +to him and began patting him on the neck.</p> +<p>“How are you, old fellow?” he asked in a soft +persuasive tone. Ticktock seemed to like the man. +He looked over and winked at Jim as if he were +putting the stamp of approval on the stranger.</p> +<p>“Nice horse you got here, son,” said the man.</p> +<p>“He sure is,” agreed Jim. He always warmed +toward anyone who appreciated the mustang. Yes, +this whole thing certainly was a puzzle.</p> +<p>“Why did you let him loose?” he asked.</p> +<p>“You don’t think I’m a horse thief, do you?” asked +the other indignantly. “I could see that someone was +taking awful good care of this pony and must like +him. So I turned him loose.”</p> +<p>“Look here,” said Jim, “I can’t figure this out. +Why should you be so scared just because you were +riding on a freight? Lots of people do that.”</p> +<p>“In some states they put them in a chain gang +or jail too, when they catch them.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_169">[169]</div> +<p>“That would explain your running off with Ticktock,” +said Jim, reasoning out loud, “but it doesn’t +account for your staying here in the woods. You +look peaked and hungry to me. Why don’t you go +some place where you can get something to eat? +And where are your clothes?”</p> +<div class="img" id="p169"> +<img src="images/p169.jpg" alt="Where are your clothes?" width="500" height="345" /> +</div> +<p>“I washed my clothes,” said the other nervously. +“They’re hanging over there in the bush.”</p> +<p>Jim’s eyes followed in the direction of the pointed +finger. There was a shirt, undershirt and two socks +hanging on a limb. They had obviously been washed, +although it was rather a poor job, since there had +been no soap and only the cold water of the stream.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_170">[170]</div> +<p>“That doesn’t answer the other questions,” said +Jim stubbornly. “I think you are hiding for some +other reason.”</p> +<p>The man looked at Jim long and searchingly. Apparently +he was reassured by the appearance of the +boy’s frank face and steady brown eyes.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll tell you the truth,” he said at last. +“I think you’ll understand.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead.”</p> +<p>“Look, I’m kind of weak from lack of something +to eat. Why don’t we sit down, because this is a long +story? And how about pointing that rifle just a little +bit in the other direction? It makes me nervous.”</p> +<p>“All right,” agreed Jim, sitting down on a log, +“but I’m keeping this gun handy.”</p> +<p>As Jim placed the rifle across his knees, he suddenly +realized that he had forgotten to load it. There +was a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach and a +big lump suddenly came up in his throat, threatening +to choke him. He couldn’t very well reach in his +pocket, extract a shell, open the breech, and load the +gun. Nervous as he was, he knew he would be slow +reloading it. He knew how, but had never had much +practice and it might take a long time. The other +man was too close to permit such a maneuver. There +was nothing to do but try not to change expression +and stick it out.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_171">[171]</div> +<p>“You were right,” said the captive, commencing +his story and apparently noticing nothing wrong in +Jim’s expression or behavior. “The law is after me. +I’m wanted for killing a man.”</p> +<p>“A murderer,” said Jim involuntarily. He gulped. +Matters were getting worse by the minute.</p> +<p>“I’m no murderer,” said the man with indignant +sincerity. “But I’m sure in the worst mess that ever +happened to any man. The police are after me, I’m +starving, and I don’t have any place to go. All of +it’s an accident too.”</p> +<p>The man’s tone was full of so much woe that Jim +felt a wave of sympathy sweep over him. Somehow +he couldn’t help liking the man and believing in him. +He didn’t look like a murderer.</p> +<p>“How did it happen?” Jim asked.</p> +<p>“I’m a horse trainer—one of the best in the country,” +said the other proudly. “I’ve handled all kinds +of horses, from big work teams to race horses. The +last few years I’ve been training race horses. I was +working for Mr. Medway and we had his horses at +Churchill Downs just outside Louisville. Last Monday—it +seems like a year—I was walking along outside +the stables when I saw a jockey named Willie +Fry in one of the stalls. I don’t suppose you know +much about the things people do to horses now and +then at race tracks, but this jockey was doping a +horse. You can dope a horse several ways—you can +give him something to make him slow and dopey so +he can’t run well or you can give him a shot to make +him all hopped up.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_172">[172]</div> +<p>“What’s that?” asked Jim, so interested that he +forgot about the unloaded rifle.</p> +<p>“It’s just like a man taking snow-cocaine, any +kind of dope. It makes him think he can do anything. +Well, the same thing happens to a horse. A horse +that’s hopped up can run much better than he would +normally. It’s bad on his heart, bad all over for that +matter. He’s apt to strain himself and be ruined. +Sometimes a horse can run so hard he may go +blind.”</p> +<p>“Was he giving a horse that kind of dope?” asked +Jim, full of indignation.</p> +<p>“No, this was the night before the race and he +was doping a horse to make him sick and slow. +Judges can usually tell a horse that’s hopped up, +but it’s hard to tell when a horse has been given +something to make him sick or is just naturally not +up to form. Well, I hate to see a horse doped or mistreated +in any way. What made me even madder +was that Willie was doping <i>my</i> horse. Redwing was +the horse, and she was a sure bet to win the next +day. I had most of the money I’d saved all summer +on that race.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_173">[173]</div> +<p>“Why didn’t he want her to win?” asked Jim, +puzzled.</p> +<p>“Well, there could have been several reasons. One—he +was riding a horse that was the second favorite, +but he knew as well as I did that he didn’t have +a chance against Redwing. Then he could have been +paid by the bookies—they are the men that take bets +on the race—to fix it so the favorite couldn’t win. +That way they could clean up, not only on not having +to pay off on any money on Redwing, but by +putting money up themselves on Willie’s horse. Anyhow, +I was really mad. I jumped on Willie and he +started to fight. He pulled a knife on me and so I +grabbed a bottle that was handy. I hit him over the +head, and he dropped like a sack. Blood started +running down his face. I was really scared. I felt +his pulse and couldn’t feel a thing. So I lit out of +there and I’ve been hiding ever since.”</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you go to the police and tell them +what happened?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>“I was too scared to think straight and then there +were a couple of things against me. No one saw +Willie doping the horse, or the fight, so it would have +been just my word about what happened. Then the +worst thing was that Willie and I had been in a +fight the day before over a girl. I warned him to +stay away from the girl I was going to marry. The +police would play that up big and I wouldn’t have +a chance.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_174">[174]</div> +<p>“You sure are in a tough spot,” sympathized Jim. +“It’s even worse that you ran away.”</p> +<p>“I know it is,” said the man mournfully. “That’s +why I was so scared when I was on that train and +when you came hunting for me. I figured that everyone +had seen the newspapers and was searching +for me.”</p> +<p>“What were you planning on doing, just staying +here?” asked Jim.</p> +<p>“Well, when I first got here I thought that brush +hut and fireplace had been built by some hunters. +The place didn’t seem much used, and it wasn’t +hunting season; so I thought I’d stay until things +sort of quieted down. That is, if I could figure out +some way to eat. Then about noon today I noticed +those jumping bars for a horse. That and the way +that little horse brought me here made me think +that someone was using the place for something. So +I decided I’d better move on. I turned the horse +loose and figured I’d leave when it was night. I +didn’t think whoever owned the horse would be back +inside of an hour. I was wrong. You showed up and +caught me asleep.”</p> +<p>“Haven’t you had anything to eat since I saw you +jump off the train?” asked Jim solicitously.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_175">[175]</div> +<p>“I had two sandwiches that I had in my pocket,” +said the man. “I picked them up the night before in +a diner near a freight yard. But that’s all. I sure +am hungry.”</p> +<p>“I think maybe I could get you something to eat,” +said Jim, considering.</p> +<p>“I knew you would believe the truth when you +heard it,” said the stranger. “You’re not going to +turn me over to the law?”</p> +<p>“I believe you. I don’t blame you a bit,” said Jim. +“Since I’m going to trust you, I may as well put +this gun down. I am pretty relieved anyhow, because +I forgot to load it.”</p> +<p>The man stared at Jim in amazement. “Captured +by a boy with an unloaded rifle! I’m certainly a +desperate criminal.”</p> +<p>Jim grinned. “I think you better stay right here +for a while,” he said, taking charge. “I can feed you +here and you are better hidden than at any place I +can think of.”</p> +<p>“You found me,” pointed out the late captive +dubiously.</p> +<p>“Well naturally,” said Jim scornfully. “This is +my secret headquarters. No one else knows about it +though. Besides, you haven’t seen half of it yet. If +you’ll promise never to tell, I’ll show you everything.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_176">[176]</div> +<p>“You have the sacred word of Timothy Dinwiddie,” +said the man solemnly.</p> +<p>“Follow me.”</p> +<p>Jim led the way to the hidden cave. He paused +just outside the entrance.</p> +<p>“Don’t let anybody ever see you enter here.” He +pushed back the bush covering the cave mouth. “I +keep a flash light hanging here just inside the door.”</p> +<p>Timothy followed the boy inside. He stood with +mouth open as he followed the flash-light beam +around the walls. There were several rows of cans—baked +beans, vegetables, shoestring potatoes, chow +mein, corned beef and everything possible to preserve.</p> +<p>“Food! Beautiful, beautiful food!” said Timothy +in rapture. “This is the most wonderful sight I’ve +seen since a horse I picked won the Kentucky Derby +about ten years ago.”</p> +<p>“Pick out what you want,” said Jim, very proud +of his stock of provisions. He was gratified that they +were proving so handy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_177">[177]</div> +<p>In a few minutes the two had a fire going. Baked +beans were warming in a pot while some weiners +were simmering in a frying pan. The coffee began +to boil while Jim was opening a can of peaches. +Timothy sniffed the appetizing odors hungrily and +put more wood in the fireplace. He finally decided +everything was warm enough and dished out a huge +portion. Jim wasn’t hungry, but the enjoyment he +received from watching Timothy devour the food +more than repaid him for all the trouble and expense +he had undergone in collecting his stock. After +finishing the first helping, Timothy filled his plate +again. He ate everything down to the last bean. Then +he and Jim had a cup of coffee together.</p> +<p>“That was certainly the finest banquet I ever ate,” +said Timothy leaning back in satisfaction. “You +really got a well-stocked kitchen here. And that cave +is about the trickiest hiding place I ever laid eyes +on.”</p> +<p>“It is pretty good,” said Jim glowing with pride. +“I just laid in that food in case I might need it +sometime.”</p> +<p>“I’m certainly glad you did. It saved me from +starvation.”</p> +<p>“I get to town quite often,” observed Jim. “You +look the stock over, and anything you need or that +gets low I’ll pick up at the grocery store.”</p> +<p>“Look, Jim,” said Timothy, reaching in his pocket. +“I got about thirty dollars. You better take twenty +to buy groceries.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want your money,” protested Jim. When +he decided to be friends with anyone he made no +reservations. “You may need it.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_178">[178]</div> +<p>“You are the one that needs it. You can’t feed a +hungry man like me for nothing.” Timothy shoved +the twenty-dollar bill in Jim’s shirt pocket. “When +you go to town, would you buy any Louisville paper +you can find for the last week. I’d like to know what +they are saying about me.”</p> +<p>“I know I can get the recent ones,” said Jim. “I’ll +be back tomorrow afternoon. Right now I better get +home before my folks, because I left a note saying I +was hunting for the man that stole Ticktock.”</p> +<p>Jim rode home bursting with excitement. He +wished there was someone to whom he could tell his +exciting tale, but such a course was out of the question. +Others might not realize, as he did, that Timothy +was the victim of a bad break. Anyone who +would try to dope a horse deserved to be hit on the +head, he decided. He had to guard the secret of Timothy +very closely, because if the police found him +they might hang him. He guessed that’s what they +did with murderers.</p> +<p>The family had not returned when Jim arrived. +He destroyed his note and then began grooming +Ticktock. He was busily at work when the Meadows’ +car drove in the lane. Feeling full of mystery and +importance, he hailed his parents.</p> +<p>“Ticktock came back!”</p> +<p>“So I see,” said Mr. Meadows. “How’d it happen?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_179">[179]</div> +<p>“He just came trotting up the road. Got loose I +guess.” The explanation seemed so tame compared +to the story he could have told, but he held himself +sternly in check.</p> +<p>The family gathered around to welcome the mustang +back. Mrs. Meadows was very relieved, as she +had worried over her son’s evident grief. Jean was +overjoyed. She was becoming almost as fond of the +pony as was Jim. In the general excitement, everyone +talked at once and neither the father nor mother +noticed anything unusual in Jim’s behavior. Jean, +however, wasn’t to be deceived. She sensed that her +brother was acting a little too mysterious and self-satisfied +to know as little as he did. She said nothing, +but watched him narrowly.</p> +<p>On Monday Jim made some excuse and went to +town early. At the local store, which sold newspapers, +he was able to get Louisville papers from the preceding +Friday through Monday. He was very conscious +of his exciting new rôle of helping a hunted man +and played the part with all his usual intensity. +Afraid that it might look suspicious to hunt through +the papers while in town, he stuffed them in one of +the saddlebags without even a glance. While walking +down the street he met Constable Whittaker, to +whom he gave a very cordial greeting. He grinned +to himself. Constable Whittaker represented the only +forces of law and order Jim had ever known. Being +a conspirator who was outwitting Whittaker was +rare fun.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_180">[180]</div> +<p>After buying a few groceries at the store, Jim +completed his errands by purchasing a quart of ice +cream and some cigarettes. They were to be a surprise +for Timothy. He didn’t know if the fugitive +smoked, but he suspected that he did. He was rather +nervous while buying the cigarettes, as he knew +they were not supposed to be sold to anyone under +twenty-one. However, he had occasionally purchased +them for his father.</p> +<p>“They are for a client of mine,” he said casually +to the druggist, who didn’t think of doubting Jim’s +motives.</p> +<p>The ice cream was carefully packed so that it was +still in good condition when Jim arrived at the +hide-out.</p> +<p>“You certainly are the answer to a man’s prayer,” +said Timothy, dividing the ice cream into two equal +portions. “Ice cream and cigarettes! I really was +craving a smoke. You put those ravens in the Bible +to shame, Jim. Imagine a bird delivering a quart of +ice cream! I prefer a boy with a horse. It’s not so +fancy, but it’s a good deal more satisfying to the +stomach.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_181">[181]</div> +<p>Jim produced the papers and together they went +over each page of all four editions. They made a +hasty search first and then examined each article +thoroughly. Even the financial pages were searched. +There was not a single mention of Timothy Dinwiddie +or his victim, Willie Fry.</p> +<p>“That’s funny,” said Timothy, scratching his head. +“It happened on Monday. You’d think there would +still be some mention of the business on Thursday. +I might not be so important as I thought, but Willie +Fry was a well-known jockey.”</p> +<p>“Maybe they’re keeping quiet on purpose,” suggested +Jim, who had read his share of mystery +stories.</p> +<p>“What do you mean by that?” inquired Timothy +nervously.</p> +<p>“Sometimes the police keep very quiet in order +not to let a criminal know they are hot on his trail,” +Jim said ominously.</p> +<p>“I hope that’s not what’s happened,” Timothy said +fervently. He looked apprehensively around at the +woods.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll go to the newspaper office. The editor +and I are pals. He may have the old papers. I’ll think +up some story and get the missing ones from Monday +on,” said Jim. “I can’t go tomorrow, as it might +look suspicious to be going to town too often. But +Wednesday I’ll get them. I’ll bring you some fresh +eggs and milk too. Also, we got a lot of melons if +you want one.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_182">[182]</div> +<p>“Boy, oh boy,” said Timothy, shaking his head. +“You think of everything. I’m glad you’re not a +cop.”</p> +<h2 id="c12"><br />Chapter Twelve +<br />Jean’s Ride</h2> +<p>The rest of the week went by without further +news. Jim was unable to get the Tuesday +morning paper, the one most likely to contain +news of the murder. They searched all the +others, but with no success. Timothy and he were +still completely in the dark as to what efforts the +police were making. They could only make guesses.</p> +<p>Jim was enjoying himself however. He was playing +an important part in a serious and exciting +game. He kept Timothy well supplied with food, reveling +in his mysterious errands. While at home, time +hung very heavily on his hands. He felt that he +should be doing something. He was bothered about +Jean. He was not going to underestimate her again, +and he knew she was watching him carefully. Also, +her birthday was approaching. She mentioned the +matter several times; so he knew she had not forgotten +the promise he had made. While he supposed +Timothy could hide elsewhere on that day, it would +be difficult to remove all traces of his recent occupancy. +Also, part of the safety of the hide-out would +be destroyed once Jean knew the way.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_183">[183]</div> +<p>Before it had been merely a matter of personal +pride that kept Jim from telling Jean. Now it was +a serious matter—a man’s life was involved.</p> +<p>To cover up his nervousness and unrest, Jim began +teaching Ticktock a few new tricks. He had long +since taught the mustang to stand quietly in one +spot when his reins were dangling, not to crop grass +while a rider was in the saddle, and various other +accomplishments of a good riding horse. Now he +tried a new idea. He enlisted the aid of his sister +for the instruction.</p> +<p>Jim would go a few feet away from his sister and +the horse, then Jean would say, “Ticktock, go to +Jim.” When the mustang did as he was told, he +would receive a piece of sugar or apple as a reward. +The process would then be reversed and the pony +told to go to Jean. They gradually lengthened the +distance until finally Jean was some distance down +the road. Ticktock caught on rapidly, trotting back +and forth between the two carrying out his orders. +In a few days he was thoroughly schooled.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_184">[184]</div> +<p>Jim then began instructing Jean in riding. Much +of his information had been picked up only recently +from Timothy, who had a vast store of knowledge +about horses and riding in general. The horse trainer +had once worked in a riding academy and had given +riding lessons. Jim was an apt pupil and followed +his new teacher’s advice religiously. He seldom had +to be told twice. He learned the proper way to sit in +the saddle, how to hold the reins correctly and various +do’s and don’ts of riding. For the first time he +heard of the art of posting.</p> +<p>All this information was passed on to Jean. Jim +spoke in such an authoritative manner that Jean +knew he was not inventing his technical terms or +making up his riding lore. There had been a noticeable +improvement in his riding lately which she +hadn’t failed to see. As a detective, Jean put her +brother to shame. She missed nothing. Aware that +Jim had not been visiting anyone she knew who was +a riding expert, she said nothing but continued to +observe. She hadn’t missed the frequent trips to +town and other rides in the direction of Briggs +Woods. As for the milk and eggs that disappeared, +she had noted that bit of information down too. +When Jim slipped away with a watermelon, she definitely +decided something very mysterious was taking +place.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_185">[185]</div> +<p>Jean considered the theory that someone was giving +her brother riding instruction and information +for which he was paying in food. But why was he so +mysterious about it all. If he was openly taking lessons +from someone, he would be certain to talk about +it, even boast somewhat. No, there was more to the +matter than was covered by such a simple explanation. +She was just as decisive as her brother and +even though only ten, when she made up her mind, +she acted. So she devised a plan.</p> +<p>Jean had long since gotten over her timidity concerning +Ticktock and had ridden him occasionally +before. Now she applied herself and obediently followed +Jim’s instructions. She began riding Ticktock +daily around the farm. Mr. Meadows was somewhat +opposed to the idea, as he thought his daughter was +too young to be riding Ticktock. Although small for +a mustang and called a ranch pony, Ticktock was +far from being any Shetland pony. Any fall from +his back would be a long distance for such a small +girl. Although he no longer had any worries about +Jim and Ticktock, Mr. Meadows still considered the +mustang to be rather high-spirited and apt to be +vicious with anyone who didn’t know him too well. +In spite of the parental disapproval, Jean spent +more time each day learning to ride on the little +horse.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_186">[186]</div> +<p>Friday Jim had to help his father all day. At noon +Jean asked to ride Ticktock; so Jim saddled the +horse and then went back to the field with his father. +After several hours of intermittent riding around +the yard, Jean decided that the time had come for +action. Casually she went into the house to find her +mother.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll ride down the road a way,” she +announced.</p> +<p>“Be careful,” warned her mother, who did not +share her husband’s fears about Ticktock.</p> +<p>“Sure. I may be gone a little while so don’t worry.”</p> +<p>As soon as she was out of sight of the house, Jean +urged the mustang to a faster pace and headed +toward the woods. She knew the trail to the hide-out +began somewhere near the middle of the forest. It +was very gloomy in the heavy shade, but that just +added to the excitement for her. Resolutely she rode +on.</p> +<p>Had Jean allowed Ticktock to have his head once +they were in the forest, he would have undoubtedly +taken her straight to the hideaway, as he had Timothy. +The way was old and familiar to him now. But +Jean insisted on directing the little horse. While she +had taken quite a few peeks on her blindfolded trip +to the hide-out, she hadn’t seen quite enough. Jim +had circled and doubled back, which misled her too. +The woods were confusing, one trail or stream looking +like another. She knew they had roughly followed +a stream for a distance, so she chose one and +boldly plunged into the woods.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_187">[187]</div> +<p>It was difficult riding, trying to duck branches or +push them out of the way. Jean couldn’t tell too well +where she was going, and after some distance she +began to be discouraged and tired. She was determined, +however. Any trouble was acceptable if she +could only show up her brother and find the hideaway. +She was certain that if she found the place +she would also solve the mystery of why he was now +taking away perishable food.</p> +<p>Seeing nothing that looked familiar, Jean stopped +for a few minutes to rest and get her bearings. As +she did so, she saw a tree loaded with persimmons +on the opposite bank of the stream. She dismounted +and picked a spot to cross. It was a tiny rivulet, but +it had deep steep banks from the spring floods. She +walked upstream until she found a spot where she +could cross. Returning to the tree, she began climbing. +She was reaching out for a particularly large +persimmon when she lost her balance and fell. She +landed on her back with a breath-taking thump and +then tumbled on down the bank of the stream. Her +right foot hit a rock at the bottom and doubled under +her. There was a wrench and a horribly sharp pain. +Her scream of anguish brought Ticktock to the +bank. He peered down at the huddled heap at the +bottom.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_188">[188]</div> +<div class="img" id="p188"> +<img src="images/p188.jpg" alt="Peering down at the huddled heap" width="500" height="336" /> +</div> +<p>Jean lay moaning and crying for some minutes. +The pain subsided a little, so she sat up and dried +her tears. She wanted nothing now but to get back +to Ticktock and go home. Cautiously she tried standing. +The slightest weight on her foot brought a yell +of pain. She got back on her knees and tried crawling +up the bank. It was too steep, the soft ground +caving in and letting her slide back down to the +bottom. If she had had the use of both legs, she might +have managed to scramble up to the top, but it was +impossible in her crippled state. Discouraged and +frightened, she gave up and began to cry.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_189">[189]</div> +<p>No one could find her, she was certain. Ticktock +couldn’t get down to where she was and she couldn’t +climb to him. She was tired, dirty, and her ankle +hurt. She looked at the injured member, which was +swelling rapidly. It was nearly twice as large as her +left ankle. The sight frightened her even more. Perhaps +it was broken, and she would just have to stay +there and slowly starve.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_190">[190]</div> +<p>Ticktock looked down solicitously. He knew something +was wrong but didn’t quite know what to do +about it. He stepped closer to the bank to see better, +but it began to crumble. He moved back out of danger +and waited patiently. After Jean had cried herself +out, she began to think calmly once more. At +least it was comforting to have Ticktock standing +by, even though she couldn’t use him.</p> +<p>Jean was a resourceful little girl who didn’t give +up too easily. She considered all possible ways out +of her predicament and finally had an idea. She +would send Ticktock for help.</p> +<p>“Ticktock, go to Jim!” she ordered, sitting up. +“Go on home to Jim!”</p> +<p>Ticktock hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Jean, +as he knew she was in trouble. Also, he had been +taught to stand still while his reins were dangling. +He stirred indecisively.</p> +<p>“Go on, go home to Jim,” repeated Jean commandingly.</p> +<p>It was an order; so the mustang decided to obey. +He started off. He went a few paces and then looked +around mournfully over his shoulder, hoping his instructions +would be changed. Jean simply repeated +her words. Reluctantly he went back through the +woods and headed for home. He began trotting down +the road. Repeatedly he stepped on his reins and +jerked his head down savagely. Finally one sharp +jerk broke them and he went rapidly down the road +with his broken reins trailing behind him on the +ground.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_191">[191]</div> +<p>Mrs. Meadows became alarmed about four-thirty +at her daughter’s long absence. Finally she could +stand the worry no longer. She went to the big dinner +bell in the back yard and rang it vigorously. It +was used to summon her husband from the fields, +and she knew he would come running at once on +hearing the bell ring at this unexpected hour of the +day.</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows and Jim left their work and headed +for the house immediately. Jim’s mother had just +finished explaining when Ticktock appeared over +the hill, riderless.</p> +<p>The little mustang was covered with sweat and +dust. The farther he went from Jean the more the +pony realized something was decidedly amiss. His +only thought was to hurry home to Jim. Jim was his +god and could solve all things. He dashed into the +yard and obediently slid to a halt in front of the boy. +He had carried out instructions.</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows looked at the lather-covered mustang +with his broken reins.</p> +<p>“If that horse has thrown Jean and hurt her, I’ll +kill him.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_192">[192]</div> +<p>Worried as he was, Jim did not fail to rise to the +defense of his beloved horse. “He wouldn’t throw +Jean. Maybe she fell off and he came back for me.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m going to get the car and go back along +the way he came,” announced Carl Meadows decisively.</p> +<p>Jim tied a hasty knot in the reins and climbed up +on Ticktock’s back.</p> +<p>“Take me to Jean,” he said. “Go to Jean.”</p> +<p>Ticktock was not indecisive this time. He turned +around and started back rapidly down the road. +Mrs. Meadows and her husband got in the car and +started slowly after him, scanning the ditches on +both sides. They passed Jim and went on up the +road. He shouted at them as they went by.</p> +<p>“You better wait at the corner and follow me. +Ticktock will take us to her.”</p> +<p>It was soon evident where the pony was heading. +When the woods appeared in view, Jim was certain +of at least part of what had happened. Jean had tried +to find the hide-out. He felt positive about that. A +thousand ideas crowded into his mind. If she let +Ticktock have his head, he would have taken her to +the clearing too. And Timothy was hiding there. +Hearing a horse approaching, he would naturally +assume it to be Jim. And then suddenly, if Jean appeared, +what would have happened? He was positive +that Timothy would not have harmed his sister. +Perhaps he might have detained her though, afraid +that she would spread an alarm. In that case, what +would he do? He would have to lead his parents to +the hide-out and betray Timothy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_193">[193]</div> +<p>There were other explanations too. Jean might +have suddenly seen Timothy and become alarmed. +If she rode off rapidly through the trees, it would +have been the easiest thing in the world to have +been knocked off by a low branch. In that case she +might be hurt badly. Everything looked black. Jean +might be hurt; Timothy might be turned over to the +police; he might be taken for aiding a criminal; and +lastly Ticktock was once again in Mr. Meadows’ bad +graces.</p> +<p>So certain was Jim that Jean had gone to the +hide-out that he tried to pull Ticktock back onto +the road when the little horse started off through the +woods before reaching the usual trail. The mustang, +who knew exactly what he was doing, was stubborn +and insisted in turning off the road.</p> +<p>“O.K., Ticktock,” said Jim finally. “You usually +know where you’re going.”</p> +<p>Jim waited for his parents to arrive in the car. +They climbed out and rather dubiously followed Jim +into the woods. Every few yards they would shout +Jean’s name. When they had penetrated about half +a mile into the forest, they heard a weak answer. +Jean had heard them. Ticktock kept going forward +confidently until he paused on top of the bank above +the injured girl.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_194">[194]</div> +<p>Jean was a sorry-looking little girl. Her face was +streaked with tears and dirt while her clothes were +torn, wet and muddy. But she was very happy to be +at last out of her predicament. She had been lonely +and frightened, waiting alone in the woods after +Ticktock had gone.</p> +<p>“I tried to climb the persimmon tree and fell down +here,” she explained. “I couldn’t get up; so I sent +Ticktock for help.”</p> +<p>Jim listened to the vindication of his faith in Ticktock +in silence. He was very relieved to find Jean and +know that she wasn’t too badly hurt. They were still +too close to his hide-out to suit him though, and he +wouldn’t feel safe until they were clear of the woods. +Also, this was scarcely the time to point out how intelligently +Ticktock had acted. His parents were still +too absorbed in Jean and the extent of her injuries.</p> +<p>Ticktock led the way back to the road while Mr. +Meadows carried Jean in his arms. When the little +party reached the car, the others drove off, leaving +Jim to follow home alone.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_195">[195]</div> +<p>Jim let the little pony take his time on the road +back. He felt much relieved but still uneasy. He +wondered what Jean would say if they asked her +what she was doing in the woods. He felt rather +guilty about her mishap. After all, it was mainly his +fault.</p> +<p>If he had shown her the way that first day, she +would never have gone off on her trip of exploration. +It had been rather mean of him, considering that +she had found the cave, which was the most valuable +feature of the secret rendezvous. So if her leg +were broken, he supposed that he was really responsible.</p> +<p>The doctor was at the house by the time Jim arrived. +He was busy with Jean; so Jim rubbed Ticktock +down and put him in the orchard.</p> +<p>“You’re a hero, old boy,” he said fondly. “You got +me out of a pretty ticklish mess by being so smart.”</p> +<p>“Just sprained badly,” the doctor was saying as +Jim entered the house. “She’d better stay in bed a +day or two. That’s the only way I know of to keep +active children from moving around.”</p> +<p>Jean had her dinner in bed, rather enjoying being +in the limelight. After he had eaten, Jim got a +chance to talk to his sister alone.</p> +<p>“I suppose you were looking for the hide-out,” +he said hesitantly.</p> +<p>Jean nodded her head. “I haven’t told anybody +though.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_196">[196]</div> +<p>“Good girl,” said Jim with a thankful sigh. “It +was mean of me not to show you before. As soon as +you can get around I’ll take you there, even if it +isn’t your birthday.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t said anything about the milk and eggs +you took either,” said Jean calmly. “What are you +feeding?”</p> +<p>Jim looked at his sister with hesitation. She certainly +had shown that she could keep a secret. She +deserved to be in on the excitement, he decided. Perhaps +that would make up in some part for his having +indirectly caused her accident.</p> +<p>“Look, Jean,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’ll tell +you the whole story....”</p> +<h2 id="c13"><br />Chapter Thirteen +<br />The Mystery Is Solved</h2> +<p>The next morning Jim rode to Springdale +for newspapers and supplies for Timothy. +Purchases were becoming rather difficult of +late. Perhaps it was merely his fancy, but he felt +that the man in the store was beginning to look +at him curiously when he made his daily purchase +of several newspapers. As for cigarettes, Jim had +bought what he felt was his limit without exciting +suspicion. He would have to think of some new solution +for Timothy’s tobacco problem. The last quart +of milk purchased had brought forth a comment +from the clerk.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_197">[197]</div> +<p>“Haven’t you got any cows on that farm?”</p> +<p>“Oh, sure,” replied Jim, with what he considered +magnificent nonchalance. “This is for a customer. +I run errands of all sorts you know. Don’t need a +good rural delivery boy, do you?”</p> +<p>Feeling that he had allayed suspicion for the moment, +Jim rode off toward the hide-out. While the +intrigue he was carrying on with Timothy was the +most exciting adventure in which he had ever taken +part, he had to face facts. Avoiding questions was +bound to become increasingly more difficult. Also, +the end of summer vacation was not too far distant. +Going to school, doing his chores at home, and continuing +the operation of the Pony Express was +going to make a very stiff schedule without the +added labor of having to administer to the wants +of Timothy. Cold weather would add further complications. +How would Timothy heat the cave? Also, +there was the matter of money. While he was still +operating on the original twenty dollars that Timothy +had given him, sooner or later the money would +be exhausted. Jim didn’t begrudge using some of his +own money to provide for his new friend, but if the +proceeds of the Pony Express were all used up for +food, in time it would grow irksome. He could see +long years stretching ahead of him during which +he would have to continue the responsibility which +he had assumed. The law didn’t forget quickly; there +was no way of knowing when Timothy would come +out of hiding. Unquestionably what was now a thrilling +escapade would develop into a burdensome chore +as time passed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_198">[198]</div> +<p>Occupied with such worrisome thoughts, he arrived +at the hide-out. Timothy met him and was so +cheerful that Jim soon forgot his forebodings. He +told the story of Jean’s mishap, and they both agreed +that their secret had come perilously close to being +discovered.</p> +<p>“I had to tell Jean everything,” explained Jim. +“It was only fair, and she can be trusted.”</p> +<p>“You can’t keep a secret from a woman anyhow,” +said Timothy sagely. “Once they suspect anything is +being kept from them, you haven’t got a chance.”</p> +<p>Together the two began their usual search through +the papers for news about Willie Fry or his assailant. +There was nothing to be found; so Timothy +turned to the sport section to read the racing news. +Suddenly he let out a startled shout.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Jim.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_199">[199]</div> +<p>“Look here!” said Timothy excitedly. “Fireball +won the fourth at Havre de Grace and was ridden +by Willie Fry!”</p> +<p>Jim examined the paper. Timothy was correct; +Willie Fry had ridden in the fourth race.</p> +<p>“There aren’t two jockeys named Willie Fry are +there?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Never heard of any other except the rat I +socked,” said Timothy. “I don’t get this.”</p> +<p>“Maybe you didn’t kill him after all. Maybe you +just knocked him out. He probably came to and +didn’t even notify the police. That’s why we haven’t +noticed anything in the papers.”</p> +<p>“Well, he didn’t have any pulse when I felt his +wrist,” said Timothy wonderingly.</p> +<p>“I think you need some lessons on how to feel +pulses,” suggested Jim dryly. “You were probably +so excited that you couldn’t find his.” He began to +look casually over the remainder of the sporting +news.</p> +<p>“Look! Here’s a little article about Willie Fry,” +he said. “Listen! ‘Willie Fry, well-known jockey, was +married yesterday to Miss Alvina Morgan, of Baltimore, +Md. Miss Morgan is well known to racing circles, +as she has accompanied the Roudcroft Stables +string as cook to tracks throughout the country. In +addition to serving delicious food to the Roudcroft +personnel, Miss Morgan is famous for always having +a welcome cup of coffee for any jockey, trainer +or trackman. Track people will be happy to hear that +the new Mrs. Fry will continue at her old post in the +trailer which serves as her kitchen. Coffee will still +be on tap.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_200">[200]</div> +<p>“‘Willie celebrated his wedding day by winning +the fourth race at Havre de Grace, riding Fireball. +This was the first race ridden by Willie since he was +struck down by an unknown assailant at Churchill +Downs several weeks ago.’”</p> +<p>“See,” said Jim, as he finished reading. “You just +knocked him out. He’s probably just as anxious as +you are to forget the whole thing. If he told who +hit him, you’d tell about his doping a horse.”</p> +<p>Timothy wasn’t listening, however, but was staring +incredulously at Jim. “Let me see the paper,” +he said finally in a strained voice.</p> +<p>“Alvina married to Willie! I’d never have believed +it.” Timothy shook his head as if stunned. Slowly +his disbelief turned to indignation. “Why two weeks +ago she was engaged to me! I spent a month’s +wages on a diamond ring for her. And now she +marries Willie Fry!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_201">[201]</div> +<p>“I guess I’m glad Willie Fry is all right,” went +on Timothy calming down. “Just sort of shakes your +faith in human nature, though, a thing like this +does. Kind of a jolt to be sweet on a gal and have +her turn around two weeks after you’re gone and +marry your worst enemy. Well, they can have each +other for my money. I wish them all the unhappiness +in the world. ’Spose I’m lucky to find out about +Alvina in time. Just doesn’t seem possible though +that a woman who can bake an apple pie like Alvina +does would turn out to be so fickle.”</p> +<p>“Well, it sure makes things simpler,” said Jim +happily. He could not be bothered by such trivial +matters as a broken heart. “Now I suppose you’ll +go get your old job back as trainer?”</p> +<p>“Not on your life!” said Timothy with great feeling. +“I may not be hunted by the law anymore, but +my career at the tracks is ruined.”</p> +<p>“Why?” asked Jim, completely baffled.</p> +<p>“Why I’d be the laughingstock of every track in +the country. Willie has probably concocted some story +about how he scared me away and now he’s stolen +my girl. Everyone in the racing business knew I was +engaged to Alvina. No siree, I can’t go back to the +tracks now.”</p> +<p>“What’ll you do then?” asked Jim solicitously.</p> +<p>“Well, maybe I can get a job taking care of horses +at some riding stable or breeding farm,” said Timothy. +“Somebody ought to need a good horse handler.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_202">[202]</div> +<p>“I know where I can get you a job right around +here,” said Jim, as a sudden thought struck him. +“It would be handling big Percherons though. Do +you know anything about them?”</p> +<div class="img" id="p202"> +<img src="images/p202.jpg" alt="Percheron draft team" width="500" height="111" /> +</div> +<p>“Sure. I once handled a whole stable of them. One +of the big trucking firms in Milwaukee used to have +some beautiful teams. They used them for some of +their deliveries as sort of advertising. You get six +big prancing Percherons pulling a wagon and it’s a +beautiful sight.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Hernstadt raises Percherons, and he’s looking +for a good man,” said Jim. “I found one of his +horses that had strayed; so I’m in good with him. +We’ll go see him and I’ll recommend you.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_203">[203]</div> +<p>“That sounds like a good idea,” said Timothy. “I +look pretty ragged, though, to be applying for a +job.”</p> +<p>“I’ll ride in town and buy you a new shirt and +overalls,” volunteered Jim. “Then we’ll go see Mr. +Hernstadt.”</p> +<p>Jim was back with the new clothes in slightly over +an hour. After Timothy had changed, they both +mounted Ticktock and rode into town, where Timothy +had his hair cut. After eating lunch they set +out for the Hernstadt farm.</p> +<p>“I certainly owe you a lot,” said Timothy as they +approached their destination. “Whether I get the job +or not, you certainly have gone to a lot of trouble +for me. A guy that helps you when you’re in trouble +is a real friend.”</p> +<p>“I knew you weren’t a real crook,” said Jim, embarrassed +by Timothy’s gratitude. “The minute +Ticktock liked you, I figured you could be trusted.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_204">[204]</div> +<p>“I owe this little horse plenty too,” said Timothy. +“After he has carried double for so far, I’m not sure +he’s going to like me anymore though.”</p> +<p>“Good afternoon, Mr. Hernstadt,” said Jim when +they arrived. “This is Timothy Dinwiddie, a friend +of mine. He’s a very good horse trainer. I remembered +that you asked me to find you a good man to +handle horses; so I brought him over to see you. The +Pony Express always gets its man.”</p> +<p>“Glad to meet you,” said Mr. Hernstadt, shaking +hands with Timothy. “What experience have you +had?”</p> +<p>In a few minutes the two men were deep in horse +talk, much of it far too technical for Jim. It was +apparent to the horse breeder, after a short conversation, +that Timothy definitely knew horses. The +three of them made a tour of the stables, Mr. Hernstadt +explaining the various duties of the job. Jim +walked through the immaculate barns with their +modern equipment, his eyes wide with interest. +Every convenience he saw he wanted for Ticktock’s +stall. They finally ended their tour at a small shed +that contained a forge, an anvil and complete blacksmithing +equipment.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_205">[205]</div> +<p>“It’s rather difficult to find a good blacksmith +these days,” explained Mr. Hernstadt. “Everyone +uses tractors, and there isn’t enough business to +keep a good blacksmith going. I had so much trouble +finding a man who really knew how to shoe a +horse that I bought this equipment to do it myself. +Ever shoe a horse?”</p> +<p>“Many a time,” said Timothy confidently. “You +haven’t shown me anything yet, Mr. Hernstadt, that +I can’t handle.”</p> +<p>“I believe you. If you want to try the job for a +month, I’ll be glad to have you. There are nice quarters +over that harness shed where you can live. Come +on and I’ll show you.”</p> +<p>The details of salary and duties were settled and +Timothy declared his intention of going to work immediately. +He was very enthusiastic about his new +job, liking his employer, and admiring the horses +and all the modern equipment. Feeling very satisfied +at the way matters had turned out, Jim prepared +to leave.</p> +<p>“What do I owe the Pony Express for finding me +a good man to handle horses?” Mr. Hernstadt asked +Jim.</p> +<p>“Nothing at all,” answered Jim. “This comes +under the heading of good will. Employment service +is a little out of our line. I was just doing this +as a favor to a friend.”</p> +<p>“Well, thank you very much,” said the farmer +laughing.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_206">[206]</div> +<p>“I’d like to do something for the Pony Express +though,” said Timothy. “I owe the firm a lot. If it’s +all right with you Mr. Hernstadt, when I get the +time I’d like to use the blacksmith shop to shoe +Ticktock.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, any time you like,” agreed Mr. Hernstadt +cordially.</p> +<p>“Bring him over in about two weeks,” said Timothy. +“By then I’ll know my way around and be +able to find the time. He needs reshoeing.”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” replied Jim. “I’ve been wondering +where I was going to get him shod.”</p> +<p>“I’ll float his teeth too,” said Timothy. “I was looking +at them one day and they could stand it.”</p> +<p>“What does ‘floating his teeth’ mean?” Jim inquired.</p> +<p>“Those back teeth are called grinders,” explained +Timothy. “They grind up the grain and after a +while they get sharp edges and points. Ticktock’s +aren’t so bad, as apparently he hasn’t had too much +grain. Anyhow, unless you file away those sharp +edges, the horse can’t chew the way he should. When +the teeth get really bad a horse gets out of condition +and sometimes has colic. Filing down the teeth is +called floating.”</p> +<p>“You weren’t wrong when you said he knew +horses,” said Mr. Hernstadt to Jim.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_207">[207]</div> +<p>As soon as Jim reached home, he told his sister +about the happy ending to Timothy’s story. She was +very pleased that the trainer was no longer a fugitive +from justice, but her pleasure seemed overshadowed +by her worry about Timothy’s broken heart.</p> +<p>“Don’t be silly,” said Jim, who couldn’t understand +her concern. “Why should he worry about a +woman when he’s got twenty-three horses?”</p> +<p>Later that evening Jim sat contentedly in the living +room reading a book about the West in the days +of the pioneers. He was deeply engrossed in a running +battle between a wagon train and the Indians +when the clock struck nine.</p> +<p>“Your bedtime, Jim,” said Mr. Meadows.</p> +<p>Jim was feeling too happy and satisfied with the +world in general to put up his usual fight against +bed. He stood up obediently, and with his nose still +buried in the book, started to walk toward the stairs.</p> +<p>“Jim,” said Mr. Meadows, embarrassedly clearing +his throat, “there’s something I wanted to say.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Dad,” said Jim looking up in surprise at his +father’s rather red face.</p> +<p>“It’s about that horse of yours,” said Mr. Meadows +lamely. “I guess I was wrong about Ticktock. He’s +a pretty smart horse, the way he led us to where +your sister was. I think we can find room and feed +enough to keep him permanently.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_208">[208]</div> +<p>“Thanks, Dad,” said Jim. “That’s wonderful!”</p> +<p>His world was very full of happiness. Knowing +how difficult it was for his father to make such a +speech as he had just heard, he was deeply appreciative. +Jim, like his father, was unable to act very +demonstrative, so having expressed his thanks, he +hurried upstairs to bed. They understood each other, +he and his father. Although they didn’t say much, +each knew how the other felt.</p> +<p>Jim dropped off to sleep with a contented smile +on his face. Ticktock was his forever, Timothy was +safe now, and the hide-out was still undiscovered. +It was a very satisfactory world.</p> +<h2 id="c14"><br />Chapter Fourteen +<br />The Fire</h2> +<p>Ticktock also went to sleep that night with +a contented grin on his face. As a reward +for having carried double for so many miles, +and in general celebration of the happy state of affairs, +Jim had given him two apples and an extra +large portion of oats. It was a moderately cool night +with few flies to bother him; so the mustang dozed +off while still munching on his last mouthful of oats. +He stood swaying dreamily on his feet, while visions +of sugar cubes, dew-drenched clover, and whole bins +full of oats floated through his brain. In the midst of +his dream, the sweet odor of clover slowly changed +to a smell that was foreign and unpleasant. The +mustang stirred uneasily and shook his head in +annoyance but the disturbing odor persisted. Sleepily +he opened his eyes and then snorted in sudden +alarm. The foreign smell was unmistakably smoke!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_209">[209]</div> +<p>Mr. Meadows had completed the building of a new +brooder house during the day. The scraps of lumber, +together with other refuse, had been dumped in the +incinerator and burned. The fire had been inspected +just before dark when everything had appeared to +be burned with the exception of a few small smoking +embers. Unfortunately, the inspection had not +been thorough enough for there were a number of +pieces of tar paper roofing in the back of the incinerator. +They smoldered harmlessly for several +hours until the night breeze shifted. Suddenly they +burst into flame and burned as only tar paper can +burn. A shower of sparks went up into the night.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_210">[210]</div> +<p>Straw collects in every barnyard and the Meadows’ +yard was no exception. There had been no rain +for over a week; so the wisps of straw lying around +were ripe for burning. The wind had deposited a +small pile of loose straw against a lean-to which was +built onto one end of the barn. A spark landed in this +pile and in a few minutes the straw was burning +merrily while the wind whipped the flames against +the dry boards of the lean-to, filling the interior with +smoke. Since this shed joined one end of the barn, +smoke began to filter through the cracks into Ticktock’s +stall. The fire was just catching the shed +when the horse had awakened with his start of +alarm.</p> +<p>Ticktock had been around many campfires with +Jim, but he had always been free to move a respectful +distance away and to stand clear of the smoke. +This was a different situation, which was not at all +to his liking. As the smoke grew thicker he decided +something was amiss. He snorted and jerked his +head as the acrid fumes began to tickle his nostrils +and smart his eyes. By twisting his neck he could +see bright tongues of flame through the cracks in the +wall and he was inspired with fresh terror. The +smoke grew thicker until it interfered with his +breathing. He moved around as much as he was able +in his confined stall, growing more frightened each +minute. He decided it was time to leave.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_211">[211]</div> +<p>The pony tried backing out of his stall, but he +came to the end of his halter rope in a few feet. He +pulled until his neck ached but still the rope held. +Then he moved forward until there was a small +amount of slack in the tether. He gave a violent toss +of his head. There was a painful wrench as the rope +snapped taut. This method was no more successful +than the first, but there seemed no other course but +to try again. The smoke was growing thicker and +there was no time to lose. The frightened pony gave +several more violent tugs until finally, after one +particularly desperate yank, the rope snapped. As +he backed from the stall, Ticktock could hear the +uneasy stirrings of the other horses and cattle, who +although farther from the fire than he, were now +awake and becoming frightened too.</p> +<p>Freeing himself from the halter rope was only +half the battle, for he still had to get out of the barn. +The door which was almost directly back of his stall +was the usual double barn door. The stock had been +put in the barn because it had looked very much +like rain. However, the upper halves of the doors +had been left open, so that it wouldn’t become too +hot inside. Ticktock stuck his muzzle over the lower +half to breathe gratefully the fresh night air. A few +deep breaths restored his energy enough and calmed +him sufficiently for him to consider the remainder of +his problem. There was not room enough to try to +jump over the closed part of the door. After surveying +the situation appraisingly, the little mustang +turned around until his back feet were pointing +toward the opening. His motto had always been, +“When in doubt—kick.” With no hesitation he went +into action. Kicking was one of his major accomplishments; +so three hefty blows were enough to +break the door open. If a horse can give a sigh of +relief, he gave one when he bolted into the open +barnyard. Perhaps it was just a huge gulp of fresh +air but it sounded like a sigh of relief.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_212">[212]</div> +<p>Once outside, Ticktock could see the burning shed +clearly. He trotted to the other side of the yard +where he was in safety and then turned to look over +the situation again. It was only a matter of time +until the barn proper was on fire, trapping all the +animals in it. He could hear the movements of these +animals who were rapidly growing frantic. Although +he personally was out of danger, Ticktock knew that +something terrible was happening. His own feelings +when he had been in the barn were still fresh enough +in his mind to make him nervous. He thought the +matter over. That blazing shed was wrong. It didn’t +fit into the proper scheme of things around the farm. +When anything was wrong, Ticktock had only one +thought—to go to Jim. Jim could solve everything. +The mustang trotted toward the fence separating +the barnyard from the grounds around the house. +It was a formidably high board fence, higher than +any he had ever tried. Doubtfully he trotted back +across the yard, knowing the sensible thing to do +was to keep away from the fire and forget that high +fence. The noise made by the trapped animals grew +louder and more panicky. There was a feeling of +terrible urgency that told him he should go to Jim. +Dismissing his doubts, he started running toward +the fence.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_213">[213]</div> +<div class="img" id="p213"> +<img src="images/p213.jpg" alt="Jumping a fence" width="500" height="408" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_214">[214]</div> +<p>The little horse made a magnificent leap, but the +fence was too high for him. His front legs cleared +but his hind legs were a few sickening inches short. +His hooves hit the top of the boards with a resounding +thud that threw him off balance. He got over +the fence but landed wrong. He felt a terrible pain +in his right foreleg as it crumpled beneath him. The +night was split with the heartbreaking scream of a +horse in agony.</p> +<p>Jim sat bolt upright in bed at Ticktock’s first +scream, alarmed and confused. When the terrible +piercing sound was repeated, he leaped out of bed +and tore down the hall, shouting as he went.</p> +<p>“Dad! Mom! The horses! Something’s happened +to one of them!” He did not say “Ticktock,” as the +idea that the shrieking horse could be his beloved +pony was too terrible to admit, even to himself. He +was filled with hideous misgivings, though, as he +raced down the stairs. When he opened the front +door he saw the fire.</p> +<p>“Fire! Fire!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. +Mr. Meadows did not need the second alarm, as Jim’s +first shout had been enough to jerk him out of bed. +He had pulled on his trousers and shoes and was +starting down the stairs when he heard the word +“fire.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_215">[215]</div> +<p>Barefooted and in his pajamas, Jim raced toward +the barn. Halfway there he saw Ticktock. The little +mustang was lying helplessly on his side, screaming +and kicking in terror and pain. Forgetting the fire, +Jim raced toward the stricken horse. He felt a sickening +sense of calamity as he approached Ticktock. +He dreaded going nearer, yet he had to know what +was wrong. Then in the wavering light from the +fire, he saw his worst fears realized; Ticktock’s leg +was hanging limp and useless, broken between the +fetlock and the knee.</p> +<p>Few people ever have to face sudden stark tragedy. +There is usually some warning or preparation +that makes the shock more bearable. Jim was not +so fortunate. Out of a happy sleep he had awakened +to this. There was no bottom to the depths of his despair. +This was a tragedy beyond his most horrible +dreams. A terrible numbing agony swept over him, +leaving him nauseated, blinded and stricken. There +was a huge leaden mass where his heart and stomach +had been. He shed no tears but threw himself +in a hopeless heap on the ground beside the horse. +Not knowing what he was doing, he took Ticktock’s +head in his lap and began to stroke the mustang’s +forehead. He mumbled softly and unintelligibly to +the trembling, terror-stricken horse.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_216">[216]</div> +<p>Mrs. Meadows, who had dressed by this time, came +out into the yard carrying Jim’s shoes, shirt and +trousers. She had turned on the yard light; so she +saw the horse and boy immediately. There was no +need to ask what was wrong. The crumpled leg was +only too evident. Tears of sympathy and grief started +to her eyes, both for the little horse and for her son. +She glanced hesitantly toward the fire, feeling she +should rush to her husband’s aid, but she knew what +sickening grief was shaking her son. She had to comfort +him, if only for a moment. Saying nothing, she +walked over to put her hand on his shoulder. Jim +looked up at her dumbly as if struggling for recognition. +Slowly he brought his mind out of its numbness.</p> +<p>“Broken,” he said in a hopeless, tired voice. +“Broken.”</p> +<p>“I know.”</p> +<p>“The fire,” he said slowly. “I ought to help.”</p> +<p>“No, you stay—” she started to say and then +thought better. His help was needed and anything +that would take his mind off Ticktock would help. +“Yes, Jim, there are other horses that are trapped +in the barn. You’d better help.”</p> +<p>“You help carry water,” she warned him as he +pulled on his clothes over his pajamas. “Stay out of +the barn unless your father tells you that you can +go in.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_217">[217]</div> +<p>Jean came out to drop beside Ticktock in sorrow +almost as great as Jim’s. While the girl comforted +the pony, Jim and his mother rushed off to help Mr. +Meadows. With misgivings, Jim’s father permitted +him to go into the smoke-filled barn, for help was +needed desperately. The terrorized animals were +threshing about in their stalls so violently that it +was dangerous work to get near them in the smoky +interior to untie them. Choking and blinded, Jim +led out one cow, only to plunge back in again after +another. Mr. Meadows was racing in and out of the +barn like a madman, leading out the huge work +horses. Mrs. Meadows ran back and forth from the +watering tank to the fire carrying water while +anxiously trying to keep tabs on both her husband +and son to see that neither was gone too long, perhaps +lost and overcome by the smoke. Finally all the +stock was safely out in the yard and the two, coughing +and sputtering, turned to help Mrs. Meadows +fight the still growing fire.</p> +<p>They carried water until they were at the point +of exhaustion and the big water tank was almost +empty. Mr. Meadows was the only one strong enough +to throw water onto the roof of the lean-to, which +by this time was burning fiercely. He scorched his +face and arms while his hair and eyebrows became +singed and frizzled. With his face blackened with +soot, he continued to fight the fire with the water +that Jim and his mother pantingly lugged to the +scene. At last they began to make headway and +the boards no longer blazed but smoldered. The +lean-to was almost destroyed, while one end of the +barn was badly scorched and charred. When finally +there were no more bright blazes but only embers, +Mrs. Meadows turned to her son.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_218">[218]</div> +<p>“Go on back to your horse. We’ll finish here.”</p> +<p>Jim returned to his stricken mustang. During the +fire, excitement had replaced much of his grief, but +now it returned with all its former force. Dejectedly +he sat down beside Jean to stroke the horse’s quivering +head. He was still dumbly patting Ticktock’s +neck when Mr. Meadows came to stand beside him +some minutes later. Jim looked up at his blackened, +begrimed father.</p> +<p>“He broke his halter rope and kicked down the +door,” said the older man. “Why he jumped the fence +into the yard we’ll never know. I guess horses can +do a lot more thinking than we realize. He may have +wanted to warn us. If that was his idea, he succeeded, +although he had to break his leg to do it. I +suppose it’s small consolation, son, but your pony +saved the barn and all the other stock.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_219">[219]</div> +<p>Ticktock had calmed down somewhat now that +Jim was stroking his head again. He was still trembling, +but he no longer tried to struggle futilely to +his feet. The pain, while not the first horrible jabbing +agony, was still present. He rolled his eyes in +fright and only Jim’s comforting hand kept him +from writhing about on the ground. Mr. Meadows +knelt down, examining the leg carefully. He straightened +up with a grim expression on his face.</p> +<p>“It’s broken, son,” he said. “I suppose you know +that. It’s pretty high; so there isn’t a chance. You +better go in the house and let me put him out of his +pain.”</p> +<p>“No!” cried Jim, coming suddenly out of his stupor. +“You can’t shoot him.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to,” said his father gently. “But it’s +the only thing we can do. The only thing that’s fair +to Ticktock.”</p> +<p>“Call Dr. Cornby,” said Jim with a faint glimmer +of hope in his voice. “Maybe he can fix it.”</p> +<p>“If the break were lower, there might be some +possibility of saving him,” said Mr. Meadows. “I +hate to disappoint you Jim, but Dr. Cornby won’t +be able to do anything.”</p> +<p>“We can see,” said Jim with pleading insistence.</p> +<p>“I’ll go call the veterinarian,” said Mrs. Meadows. +She went inside to the telephone.</p> +<p>In a few minutes Jim’s mother was back. “There +was no answer at Dr. Cornby’s home, Jim. It’s +eleven-thirty; so I suppose he will be home before +too long. In the meantime I have no idea where to +reach him.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_220">[220]</div> +<p>“What day is it?” asked Jim with apparent irrelevance.</p> +<p>“Thursday, why?”</p> +<p>“He’s at the Springdale <i>Gazette</i> office as usual,” +said Jim whose mind was functioning again with +its old sharpness. “Call him there and tell him how +important it is.”</p> +<p>Dr. Cornby was very surprised when he was called +to the telephone. He listened carefully for a few +minutes.</p> +<p>“Where is the leg broken?” he asked after Mrs. +Meadows had explained what had happened.</p> +<p>“About four inches below the knee,” replied Jim’s +mother.</p> +<p>“That makes it tough,” he said. “Not much chance +with the break there.”</p> +<p>“That’s what Carl said, but Dr. Cornby, you have +to come out to see the horse,” said Mrs. Meadows +desperately. “Jim is absolutely heartbroken. Even +if you can’t do a thing, it will make him feel better. +That’s really why I want you to come, for Jim as +much as the horse. I want him to know that everything +possible is being done.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, Mrs. Meadows,” said Cornby. “I’ll be +right out. I owe that boy of yours a good turn anyhow. +Keep the horse as quiet as possible in the +meantime.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_221">[221]</div> +<p>“What’s happened?” asked the editor when Cornby +hung up the receiver.</p> +<p>“There was a fire out at the Meadows’ place. That +mustang kicked his way out of the barn, jumped a +fence, and woke up the family. The trouble is he +broke his leg in the process.”</p> +<p>“That kid’ll never get over this,” said Arnold +sympathetically. “Any chance of setting the horse’s +leg?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” said Cornby, shaking his gray +head slowly. “Depends on what the break is like. It’s +pretty high, which is bad. However, I’ve got to see +what I can do.”</p> +<p>The two men went to the veterinarian’s office, +where the doctor got his bag. After he had all his +instruments carefully stowed, he pulled out a heavy +sack from the closet.</p> +<p>“What’s in that?” asked Arnold.</p> +<p>“Quick-setting plaster,” replied Cornby. “I hope +we can use it. Otherwise it’s this.” He pulled a forty-five +from his desk drawer, examined it, inserted a +clip and stuck it in his pocket.</p> +<p>“Look,” said Arnold, “how about that new-fangled +splint you used on your dog? Wouldn’t something +like that work?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_222">[222]</div> +<p>“Maybe, maybe not. That was a Stader splint, +and it has been a godsend for small animals and for +men, too, for that matter. On horses, as yet, it’s use +is no more certain to effect a cure than a plaster +cast.”</p> +<p>“Why not?” asked the editor as they got in the +car.</p> +<p>“There’s the same difficulty as with all methods +of setting a horse’s leg. There’s simply too much +weight for such small legs. There’s experimentation +going on all the time at colleges and veterinarian +schools. Every now and then you read an article that +someone has discovered a new method of repairing +broken bones in horses, but the fact remains that in +most cases the horse is through. A plaster cast is still +the most widely used, and only in isolated cases is +it successful. I hope this is one of them.”</p> +<h2 id="c15"><br />Chapter Fifteen +<br />A Long Night</h2> +<p>Jim was still sitting on the ground beside Ticktock +when Dr. Cornby and the editor arrived. +The veterinarian wasted no time, but after a +short greeting to the family, immediately went +to work. Using a flash light, he made a careful examination +of the broken leg. Jim watched every +move with painful anxiety. Hopefully he looked at +Dr. Cornby’s face as the latter stood up from his +inspection.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_223">[223]</div> +<p>“Can you fix it?” he asked. There was desperate +pleading in his voice.</p> +<p>“I don’t know, Jim. It’s a clean break, no jagged +edges, so we can try. You can usually set a leg, but +whether it will be successful is always a gamble. +Ticktock and you will play a much more important +part in this than I will. You have a much tougher +job ahead of you than I have.”</p> +<p>“I’m willing to do anything,” answered Jim +promptly.</p> +<p>The veterinarian looked around appraisingly and +then issued instructions. A long lighting cord was +found and stretched from the nearest socket to furnish +illumination at the pony’s side. The accident +had occurred beneath one of the large trees in the +yard. Thoughtfully Dr. Cornby looked up at a big +limb almost directly overhead.</p> +<p>“If we had equipment, the best thing would be to +move him out to his stall in the barn, but we’d need +a tow truck or a derrick to do it. However, there is +always the possibility of doing still more damage by +moving him and, also, the sooner we set the leg the +better. We are lucky in that we can raise him right +here, but if we do, he’s going to be here a long time. +Now can you rig up some sort of padded frame like +the side of a stall so Ticktock can lean against it +and rest?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_224">[224]</div> +<p>“Certainly,” replied Mr. Meadows. “We can do +anything that’s necessary.”</p> +<p>“O.K.,” said the veterinarian. “Mrs. Meadows, +you are going to have a horse cluttering up your +back yard for some time.” She only smiled to show +her lack of concern, so he continued. “First, I need +a good strong block and tackle.”</p> +<p>The block and tackle was securely fastened to the +limb overhead and then Dr. Cornby produced a wide +canvas bellyband to go under Ticktock’s body, a +breeching and a breast strap. He worked rapidly +with only an occasional comment.</p> +<p>“Got to put him out to keep him quiet,” he said, +producing a jug of liquid and a complicated appearing +apparatus with a long tube. “This is chloral +hydrate which I am going to administer intravenously +in the jugular vein. Just as simple as giving +plasma to a person.”</p> +<p>Ticktock gave a start of pain and terror as the +vein was pierced but in a few minutes his nervous +trembling had ceased, his legs relaxed, and his head +drooped heavily in Jim’s lap.</p> +<p>“I’ll have to raise him to get at that leg,” said the +doctor.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_225">[225]</div> +<p>By dint of much pulling, pushing and lifting, the +wide bellyband was shoved beneath the mustang’s +body and the ends hooked to the block and tackle. +Slowly and carefully the limp horse was raised. +When the inert body was clear of the ground, they +readjusted its position and then secured the breast +strap and breech band in place to keep Ticktock from +sliding out of the sling. The injured animal was then +raised until his feet dangled clear of the ground +by a few inches. A final adjustment was made so +that his hind feet were slightly lower than his fore feet. +With his head hanging limply downward, poor +Ticktock certainly presented a forlorn and pitiful +sight.</p> +<p>In the meantime, Bill Arnold had been preparing +the material for a plaster cast. Dr. Cornby worked +rapidly and soon had the leg set and padded ready +for it.</p> +<p>“I wish I had a fluoroscope or some means of taking +an X ray to see if I have that bone in exact +apposition,” he said as he worked. “I have to go by +touch entirely, but I think I’ve got it right.”</p> +<p>After the plaster cast had been applied and was +hardening, the veterinarian sat down to relax for a +few minutes. He lighted his pipe and drew in the +smoke gratefully. Jim gave a big sigh of relief and +looked hopefully at Dr. Cornby. He had been afraid +to utter a sound while the doctor had been working, +but now he felt he could talk.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_226">[226]</div> +<p>“He’s going to be all right now, isn’t he, Doctor?” +he asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“I wish I could say yes definitely, but I can’t, Jim. +The battle has only begun. Only the simple part is +over. I’m not going to kid you but tell you just what +can and does happen in most cases.”</p> +<p>“O.K.,” said Jim grimly.</p> +<p>“A horse has one of the most sensitive nervous systems +of all animals, which is the one thing that makes +matters so difficult when they have an accident. They +are particularly susceptible to any pain, which makes +them writhe around, kick and do everything they +shouldn’t when they have a broken bone. On the +other hand, you can’t keep them quiet by keeping +them under dope because their nervous system just +won’t stand it for any length of time. That’s why a +race horse seldom recovers from a broken leg—he’s +such a nervous animal he won’t keep still.”</p> +<p>“Ticktock’s not nervous,” said Jim promptly.</p> +<p>“No, he’s a rather calm little pony, but on the +other hand, he’s no placid cow. I’ve seen times when +he acted pretty spirited; so it won’t be beer and +skittles keeping him quiet. And you’ve got to do it. +Now you notice how sloping a horse’s leg is. It’s difficult +to keep a plaster cast in place—if the break +were above the knee it would be next to impossible. +The muscles in the leg are very powerful and if the +horse starts moving, the contraction of those muscles +is enough to pull the bones out of apposition, by +that I mean out of line, and then he’s done for.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_227">[227]</div> +<p>“I’ll keep him quiet,” said Jim with determination. +“I’ll stay right here beside Ticktock all the +time.”</p> +<p>“It’ll be a long vigil,” said Dr. Cornby smiling +sympathetically. “He’s going to be in that sling at +least six weeks. Of course, the first two weeks are +the most important. After that the bone has begun +to knit and won’t pull apart so easily. Now the next +thing is to keep him happy and eating. I don’t know +how to tell you to do this. You know the horse and +will have to figure it out for yourself. I’ve known +some horses that would absolutely refuse to eat anything +when they were in pain. In one case I tried +feeding a horse through a tube to keep him alive. +Now Ticktock shouldn’t be in pain after this, but +he’ll be nervous being in that sling. You’ve got to +keep him calm and happy enough to eat.”</p> +<p>Jim was not discouraged by this ominous warning. +He felt confident that he could keep the mustang +quiet and contented. Ticktock would eat for him.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_228">[228]</div> +<p>“Now there’s one more problem,” said Dr. Cornby. +“We’ll lower him in a few minutes so that some of +his weight is resting on his feet. I think the way we +have him set most of it will be on his hind feet. +Each day we’ll put more weight on his feet until +finally the sling will just be there to keep him from +lying down and for him to use when he wants to +rest. Now some horses never lie down to sleep. I’ve +had farmers tell me that some of their horses have +stood as long as a couple of years without lying down +other than to roll when they were in the pasture. +Still there’s danger when you force a horse to stand +for six weeks in a sling that he might get laminitis, +or founder.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked Arnold.</p> +<p>“It’s the same thing that happens when a horse +is overworked, allowed to drink all the water he +wants and then stand. The blood vessels in the feet +are injured. The blood from the arteries passes +through tiny blood vessels, called capillaries, into +the veins and back to the heart. These little blood +vessels are permanently damaged and the coffin joint, +inside the hoof, suffers and drops out of position. +The sole of the foot also drops. You can help mild +cases of founder, but the horse is never up to much +except very light work. Even if he recovers he is usually +lame until his blood warms up.”</p> +<p>“What can we do to prevent it?” asked Mr. +Meadows while Jim listened anxiously.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_229">[229]</div> +<p>“Well, building that padded barricade will give +him a chance to lean against it and rest. Also, it +helps to groom the horse and massage his legs. Don’t +touch the broken leg at all for a few days though. +Beyond that there isn’t much that can be done but +hope for the best.”</p> +<p>The veterinarian waited until Ticktock awoke, +and then lowered him until his feet touched the +ground lightly. At first the pony was very groggy +and dopey, but as his head cleared he started to +struggle. He could not understand why he was hanging +in the air and was unable to walk.</p> +<p>“There, there, old boy. You’re all right now,” said +Jim consolingly, patting the mustang on the head.</p> +<p>There was nothing further that Dr. Cornby could +do. As it was after three o’clock in the morning, he +and the editor prepared to leave. As Dr. Cornby +wearily packed his bag, Jim awkwardly tried to express +his thanks. He was so grateful that he could +find no words adequate to convey the depth of his +feeling.</p> +<p>“I know how you feel, Jim,” said Dr. Cornby. +“Just forget about it and save all your energies for +the days ahead. You’re going to need all you’ve got.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_230">[230]</div> +<p>Jim firmly refused to leave his pony’s side, insisting +that he was going to sit up the remainder of the +night beside the injured animal. “He might want +some water,” he said, “or he might get scared and +start kicking.”</p> +<div class="img" id="p230"> +<img src="images/p230.jpg" alt="Horse in a sling" width="500" height="395" /> +</div> +<p>“All right,” said Mr. Meadows who had volunteered +to spend the night on watch beside Ticktock. +“We’ll bring out some blankets and fix up a place +where you can lie down if you want to.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_231">[231]</div> +<p>Dawn found Jim leaning back against the tree +asleep with a blanket around his shoulders. Ticktock +dozed quietly in his sling, apparently comfortable +and contented. Mrs. Meadows discovered them +still in deep slumber when she came out to call Jim +for breakfast. She looked down fondly at her son’s +drawn, tired face, hating to awaken him. Reaching +down, she shook his shoulder gently.</p> +<p>“Jim, Jim,” she said softly. “Come in and have +some breakfast.”</p> +<p>Jim was ravenous. He looked at Ticktock, who +still slept peacefully; so he decided to go in to breakfast. +However, as he started toward the house the +mustang awoke and stirred restively. No amount of +persuasion could have made Jim leave then, so his +breakfast was served in the yard. He sat under the +big tree hungrily devouring bacon and eggs, sleepy +and tired, but happy. He then fed Ticktock, lovingly +holding a bucket for the horse to eat and drink. He +refused to go more than a few feet from the mustang, +chasing away every fly and fussing over Ticktock +as if he were a tiny baby. Jean brought apples +and choice bits of clover to offer. The pony, instead +of refusing to eat, accepted everything until Mr. +Meadows became alarmed over Ticktock’s large +appetite.</p> +<p>“Remember, he’s not going to get any exercise for +a long time,” he warned. “You’ll overfeed him if you +don’t watch out.” Mr. Meadows sunk two posts near +Ticktock and between them nailed boards which +were padded to allow the mustang to rest against +the structure comfortably.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_232">[232]</div> +<p>The news traveled fast through the countryside +and all morning there was a string of visitors. Some +came out of sympathy for Jim and others out of pure +curiosity. A horse with his leg in a plaster cast was +quite an attraction, particularly a famous horse like +Ticktock. Jean sternly kept all visitors at a respectful +distance, afraid they would alarm the pony. +Shortly after noon Timothy came riding down the +lane astride a huge Percheron.</p> +<p>“Just heard about the accident,” he said to Jim. +“It was certainly tough luck. I thought I’d come +see if there was anything I could do.”</p> +<p>He examined the injured leg with great interest. +“Nice job—sure hope it works.” He wasted no further +words on condolence but promptly took charge +of the situation.</p> +<p>“While it’s good weather we better get things +rigged up for rain,” he said with authority. “We’ll +fix him a regular stall right here. Roof to shade him +and a manger. It would be just as well not to have +too much of the yard in plain view—something might +scare him.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_233">[233]</div> +<p>Together Timothy and Jim stretched a big canvas +tarpaulin over Ticktock and pegged the sides securely +to the ground. They made a small manger out +of boxes and placed it where it was convenient for +the mustang. Then they spread straw on the ground +around his feet and in a short time had him appearing +very comfortable in a tentlike stall. Timothy finished +matters by giving the little horse a thorough +grooming. The trainer’s expert touch and soothing +voice kept the pony quiet and contented and for the +first time since the accident Jim was able to leave +his side without a feeling of alarm.</p> +<p>“I’ll come over about eight and spend the night +with him,” said Timothy firmly. “You’ve already +had one tough night and need some sleep.”</p> +<p>So Timothy stayed beside the injured horse the +second night while Jim slept in his own bed with +the soundness that comes of exhaustion.</p> +<h2 id="c16"><br />Chapter Sixteen +<br />The Convalescence</h2> +<div class="pb" id="Page_234">[234]</div> +<p>For two weeks Jim and Timothy alternated +nights beside Ticktock. After several days +the mustang seemed resigned to remaining +in one spot but grew very spoiled. Unless someone +were beside him, he wanted to move about. Dr. +Cornby came out daily to inspect Ticktock and check +on progress. Timothy proved invaluable, for each +day he gave the horse a thorough massage and +grooming. His long experience with race horses enabled +him to keep the mustang’s muscles in trim in +spite of his lack of exercise. Each time Timothy finished +his daily stint of several hours rubbing and +massaging, Jim gave mental thanks that he had +made the right decision that first day when he had +met Timothy at the hideaway.</p> +<div class="img" id="p234"> +<img src="images/p234.jpg" alt="Horse in a sling" width="500" height="419" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_235">[235]</div> +<p>During the day, Jean often spelled Jim in his +vigil beside the pony. School started during Ticktock’s +last week in the sling, but the question of +whether Jim should go to school was not even raised—he +stayed beside his horse. When the day finally +arrived to take Ticktock from the sling, there was a +large audience. Timothy, of course, was present, +having brought Mr. Hernstadt with him. Bill Arnold, +the editor, was there to report the big event +for the Springdale <i>Gazette</i>. Dr. Cornby brought two +colleagues from neighboring towns who watched +with professional interest. Altogether there was a +very attentive gallery as the veterinarian removed +the cast and gave the signal for Mr. Meadows to +lower away slowly.</p> +<p>Ticktock gradually had been allowed to put more +weight on his feet for several weeks so at first when +the sling was removed he noticed no difference. Jim +stood at his head, talking soothingly but watching +anxiously. Then he led Ticktock forward for a few +tentative steps. The mustang walked somewhat uncertainly, +due to his long period of inaction, but he +did not seem to be limping or favoring his injured leg.</p> +<p>“I believe we’ve done it,” said Dr. Cornby jubilantly. +“He seems to be good as new, Jim!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_236">[236]</div> +<p>Jim threw his arms around his horse’s neck and +hugged him in ecstasy. “You’re all right now, Ticktock. +You’re all well again.”</p> +<p>“I’d just lead him around for a few minutes a +day at first, Jim. Don’t let him run at all for six +weeks and aside from when you’re exercising him, +keep him in the stall. You should wait at least three +months before you ride him.”</p> +<p>Jim led his horse out to the barn where he had +his stall prepared. He wanted to be alone with the +pony for a few minutes. Tears of happiness were +welling up in his eyes—tears that he preferred no +one see.</p> +<p>The following week Jim started to school. Ticktock +progressed rapidly and six weeks later was grazing +contentedly in the orchard. He wondered impatiently +why Jim had not ridden him for so long, but +otherwise he was content. One day Mr. Meadows had +just taken a reassuring look at the mustang and was +crossing the yard toward the house when Ticktock +raised his head and, looking down the road, whinnied. +Mr. Meadows followed the horse’s gaze with +idle curiosity at first, and then stared in frank puzzlement. +Coming up the road was an odd-looking +wagon followed by a long string of horses. Had Jim +been home, or Ticktock able to talk they could have +told Mr. Meadows that the old man on the driver’s +seat was Ned Evarts, the horse trader, but as it +was, the farmer had to figure out the mystery by +himself. The strange procession came on up the road +and turned without hesitation into the lane. Mr. +Meadows stared curiously at the sombreroed driver +and the odd assortment of horses. Due to the initial +resentment at Jim’s having traded the gold watch +for Ticktock, the horse trader and his unusual cavalcade +had never been discussed much by Jim and his +father. It was only as the wagon stopped and the +driver climbed down that Mr. Meadows began to +suspect the identity of his visitor.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_237">[237]</div> +<p>“My name’s Evarts,” said the old man, introducing +himself. “Are you Meadows?”</p> +<p>“That’s right,” said Carl Meadows, shaking hands +with Evarts.</p> +<p>“Last spring I swapped your son a horse. Still +got him?”</p> +<p>“Sure have. He’s over there in the orchard,” replied +Jim’s father.</p> +<p>“Yep, that’s him all right,” said the horse trader, +shading his eyes from the sun with one hand while +he looked at Ticktock. “He’s lookin’ much better than +when I saw him last.”</p> +<p>“He’s been getting good care,” said Carl Meadows, +grinning. “In fact he’s practically been fed with a +spoon lately.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_238">[238]</div> +<p>“When I traded with your boy I was a bit doubtful +about the deal, as he gave me a gold watch for +the horse,” said Evarts. “I asked him if he was sure +it was all right, and he reckoned it was. Some days +later I happened to take the watch apart again and +I noticed that engravin’ on the back. While I ain’t +doubtin’ that the watch belonged to your son, I figured +you might set a big store by it, seein’ it’s been +in the family so long. Anyhow I held onto it and if +you’re a mind to trade back, I still have the watch.”</p> +<p>“I’ve been wrong on so many counts concerning +that horse it’s getting kinda monotonous,” said Mr. +Meadows almost to himself.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked Evarts.</p> +<p>“Nothing. No, I wouldn’t consider trading back,” +said Mr. Meadows stoutly. “I was a bit mad at the +time, but Jim sure knew what he was doing. Now +I wouldn’t swap that mustang for your whole string. +I’d like to buy the watch though.”</p> +<p>“How about forty-five dollars?”</p> +<p>“Fair enough. I’ll buy it.”</p> +<p>“Made money on that horse after all,” said the +old man, grinning as he pocketed his money.</p> +<p>“I’m glad you did, because that mustang is just +about the most valuable horse in the country. Also +the most famous in the state.”</p> +<p>“What’s he done?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_239">[239]</div> +<p>“Well, for one thing he’s just recovered from a +broken leg. Had the cannon bone broken and you’d +never know it now.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll be hanged,” said Evarts in amazement, +as he walked toward the orchard fence. “How’d he +break it?”</p> +<p>“The barn caught on fire one night and he broke +out. He jumped the fence and broke his leg when +he landed. That’s what woke us. Must have saved +me a thousand dollars worth of stock. I had the barn +insured against fire but not the stock. That’s just +one of the reasons why we wouldn’t part with him.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m sure pleased you’re satisfied with him. +As I said, I was a bit worried at the time, tradin’ +with a boy.”</p> +<p>“I’ve quit worrying about Jim getting beat in a +trade,” said Mr. Meadows proudly. “He’s quite a +businessman. I guess he made at least seventy-five +dollars with that horse during the summer.”</p> +<p>Mr. Meadows was still recounting Ticktock’s exploits +when Jim returned from school.</p> +<p>“Hi, Mr. Evarts!” he shouted as he came through +the gate. “How do you like the looks of my horse?”</p> +<p>“Wonderful. He looks like he’d found horse +heaven.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_240">[240]</div> +<p>“Don’t mention that watch,” warned Mr. Meadows +as Jim approached. “I’ll surprise him on his birthday. +Not very often you can give the same present +twice. Probably end up with an elephant this time.”</p> +<p>Ticktock came trotting up to the fence to welcome +his master. He stuck his nose over the top wire, begging +for some tidbit. Surprisingly enough it was +Mr. Meadows who reached in his pocket and produced +a sugar cube. He held it in his outstretched +palm. Ticktock could see plainly enough that it was +sugar, but he hesitated. Mr. Meadows had long since +forgotten his old hostility but the mustang remembered. +However, he wasn’t the horse to hold a +grudge; so he looked inquiringly at Jim. Jim grinned +and nodded his head.</p> +<p>Ticktock reached out to take the sugar.</p> +<div class="img" id="p240"> +<img src="images/p240.jpg" alt="Horse behind fence" width="500" height="462" /> +</div> +<div class="img"> +<img src="images/jacket.jpg" alt="Ticktock and Jim" width="500" height="335" /> +</div> +<h2><br />Transcriber’s Notes</h2> +<ul><li>Preserved the copyright notice from the printed edition, although this book is in the public domain in the country of publication.</li> +<li>Silently corrected a few typos (but left nonstandard spelling and dialect unchanged).</li> +<li>In the text version, delimited text in _italic_ font by underscores.</li></ul> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44400 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44400-h/images/cover.jpg b/44400-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..09a1f9d --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/jacket.jpg b/44400-h/images/jacket.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..883e4de --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/jacket.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/logo.jpg b/44400-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4663db6 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/logo.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p110.jpg b/44400-h/images/p110.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..57924b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p110.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p118.jpg b/44400-h/images/p118.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f9618d --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p118.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p144.jpg b/44400-h/images/p144.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..603cbdb --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p144.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p156.jpg b/44400-h/images/p156.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8be5069 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p156.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p169.jpg b/44400-h/images/p169.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed0cf55 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p169.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p188.jpg b/44400-h/images/p188.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38a5484 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p188.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p202.jpg b/44400-h/images/p202.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e489087 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p202.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p213.jpg b/44400-h/images/p213.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2f9627 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p213.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p23.jpg b/44400-h/images/p23.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3508c20 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p23.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p230.jpg b/44400-h/images/p230.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..434dcd6 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p230.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p234.jpg b/44400-h/images/p234.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0cc2f68 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p234.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p240.jpg b/44400-h/images/p240.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c1b109 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p240.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p26.jpg b/44400-h/images/p26.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6de6b50 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p26.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p46.jpg b/44400-h/images/p46.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2e0e2b --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p46.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p64.jpg b/44400-h/images/p64.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aea3b3e --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p64.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p72.jpg b/44400-h/images/p72.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..14eb1eb --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p72.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p8.jpg b/44400-h/images/p8.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c973369 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p8.jpg diff --git a/44400-h/images/p84.jpg b/44400-h/images/p84.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b69a661 --- /dev/null +++ b/44400-h/images/p84.jpg |
