CHAPTER VII.

COLONEL WIMPLETON DROPS THE REINS.

The breeze was light after the shower, and the Raven did not give Nick Van Wolter much trouble to manage her. He was able, therefore, to devote his undivided thought to the disappointment he had experienced, and the odium he had incurred. Tommy Toppleton had stepped between him and the richest prize that ever lured a mortal young man; and Nick seemed to have no doubt that the treasure would have been easily won if his brilliant scheme had not miscarried. He did not thank Tommy for what he had done; and he envied him in the enjoyment of Miss Minnie’s smile.

But one was a Toppleton and the other was a Wimpleton. The two houses had been at war for many years, and the two heads of the families were still as implacable and bitter as ever towards each other. Major Toppleton would not permit his daughter to become a Wimpleton; and Colonel Wimpleton would not permit his daughter to share the lot of a Toppleton. Nick found consolation in this reflection. Yet it was a fact that Tommy and Minnie would dine and spend the day together. With the perversity of young men and young women under such circumstances, they would meet again without the knowledge of their fathers, and in a short time the matter would have gone so far that it could not be checked.

What would Colonel Wimpleton say if he knew that his daughter was filled with admiration and gratitude towards the son of his great enemy? Would he allow them to spend a whole day together? Certainly not. But he, the disinterested Mr. Nick Van Wolter, knew all about it. He was well aware that Tommy and Minnie were cementing an attachment which fathers could not break off. As a friend of the family, as a sincere well-wisher of Miss Wimpleton, was it not his duty to interfere, and inform the colonel of the nature of the proceedings at Grass Springs? He had no difficulty in convincing himself that such a course was the highest duty of the hour, and that it would be inexcusable in him to neglect to perform it.

Yet it was a disagreeable duty. Any interference on his part might cost him the valuable friendship of Waddie, though it might secure to him the more valuable influence of the colonel himself. As he considered the subject in all its bearings, he found himself very unwilling to incur the displeasure of Waddie, and, at the same time, of Minnie herself. It would ruin all his possible chances in the future. He had fully intended from the first that there should be “music” at Grass Springs that afternoon, and that Colonel Wimpleton should make it; but when he looked the matter fair in the face, he was not disposed to become the informer in person.

The colonel must know what was going on at the Springs. It was not prudent for Nick to tell him, and he thought of various expedients to accomplish the purpose. He could invent nothing that was quite satisfactory, though he had been nearly two hours in the boat considering this subject alone. He finally concluded to consult his mother, who was a veritable female Talleyrand in the art of diplomacy. This disposition of the matter did not suit him much better, inasmuch as he could not see how she was to manage the matter without implicating him.

While he was still arguing the case with himself, adopting and then rejecting various methods, the Raven’s keel ground roughly on the sands at the bottom, and then came to a sudden stop. As the wind was not exactly fair to go up the lake, he had been obliged to beat, making a long and a short tack. The Raven had passed clear of a headland, about half way between Ruoara and Centreport, and was standing into a little bay above the point. Nick had been so absorbed in his reflections, that he did not notice the rapid shoaling of the water as he neared the shore. He immediately let go the sheet, in which he had put no half hitches this time; and seizing an oar, he attempted to push the boat off the shallow beach. But she had taken the ground while under full headway, and all his strength was not sufficient to move her.

In vain he pushed and swayed the boat; her keel was buried in the sand, and it was impossible for him to move her a single inch. He labored, sweat, and swore till he was heartily discouraged. The water was not knee deep over the bow, and rolling up the legs of his pants, he stood upon the bottom, and tried to pry her off with the oar; but in this task he was also unsuccessful. He was still three miles from home, and he did not like to walk this distance, on the one hand, or to endure the censure and criticism of Waddie, on the other, if he exposed his mismanagement to him. The road from Centreport to Ruoara lay close to the shore, and there was a house within a quarter of a mile of the spot. He finally concluded to go in search of assistance, for with the help of one or two others he could push the Raven off into deep water.

Taking his shoes and stockings in his hand, he waded ashore, and, having put them on, he started for the nearest house, in the direction of Ruoara. He had gone but a few steps before he was startled by the appearance of a buggy coming towards him, the horse attached to which was running at the top of his speed. His first impulse was to get out of the road, and let the frightened animal go on his way to destruction, with the helpless gentleman who occupied the seat of the vehicle. But a second glance assured him that the individual in the buggy was Colonel Wimpleton. Possessed of the current information in regard to the personal habits of the magnate of Centreport, Nick had no difficulty in satisfying himself that the great man was intoxicated, and had lost the control of the spirited animal he drove. Perhaps this was the chance which had long been in store for the ambitious young man.

[Illustration: NICK’S OPPORTUNITY.]

Perhaps it would serve his turn as well to save the father as the daughter. But it was no easy matter to stop a terrified horse, though, if the stars were favorable, he might succeed in doing it. Nick had only one instant for reflection; if he had had two, very likely he would have declined to attempt the perilous feat. Impelled only by the desire to do a big thing in the service of the powerful and influential man of Centreport, he pulled off his coat and commenced flourishing it furiously in the middle of the road. The horse saw this obstacle in his path, and evidently did not like the looks of it. He snorted wildly, and exhibited an evident intention to dodge it. Sheering towards the lake, he attempted to pass the obstruction; but Nick changed his position, and the animal abated his headlong speed.

“Stop him! Stop him!” cried the colonel, who was plainly terrified by the situation, for the reins were dragging on the ground.

The horse, intimidated by this movement on the part of Nick, threw himself back upon the breeching with such force as to pitch the colonel forward upon the dasher of the buggy. The mad animal snorted furiously in his terror, and then seemed disposed to wheel and run in the opposite direction; but the instant his speed was checked, Nick dropped his coat and sprang to the bridle of the horse. It was the coat, and not the young man, which had frightened the animal; and when this was no longer before him, he attempted to renew his flight towards home, and dragged poor Nick for twenty rods before he could produce any effect by his bold action.

Having once grasped the bridle rein, Nick was obliged to hold on for his own safety; for if he let go, he was sure to be thrown down and mangled under the wheels. The horse had not yet broken into a run after his flight was checked, and, dragging Nick by his bit, he was not likely to do so till he had shaken off this burden. By the dint of tugging and jerking, the young man had drawn the horse’s head round to one side, which impeded his efforts to go forward. The animal was not ugly, but frightened, and his struggles were only honest efforts to escape.

“Whoa, Major; whoa!” said Nick, in soothing tones, for he had had some experience with horses.

By these gentle means he succeeded in quieting the animal, and finally in stopping him, though he was still quivering with terror, and very impatient of restraint.

“Whoa, Major; whoa!” continued Nick, panting from the violence of his own efforts.

He had learned the horse’s name at the owner’s stable; and patting him on the neck, he soon reduced him to a state of tolerable calmness. Colonel Wimpleton improved the earliest opportunity to get out of the buggy. It was plain enough that he had been drinking a great deal; but the perils through which he had passed had done something to modify the influence of his drams.

“You have done me a good turn, young man,” said the magnate, when he was safe on the solid ground.

“Whoa, Major; whoa!” added Nick, as the horse began to be impatient again.

“O, it’s Nick Van Wolter!” exclaimed the colonel, as he recognized the person to whom he was indebted for this signal service.

“Yes, sir; that is my name,” replied Nick. “The Major is wide awake to-day.”

“I never knew him to attempt to run away before. I don’t know exactly how it was; but in brushing a fly from his flank, I dropped the reins. While I was trying to get them again, he got frightened, and broke into a run,” added the colonel.

Nick was not so impolitic and impolite as to hint at the true explanation; but probably the great man, overcome by his frequent cups, had dropped asleep, and lost the reins from his grasp; and doubtless they had dangled against the horse’s heels, and terrified him. This was the most probable solution of the problem.

“Yes, sir; I did that same thing once myself, when I was driving the mail wagon; but my horse was not smart enough to run away,” replied Nick, wishing to do all he could to soften the mortification of the great man. “Whoa, Major; whoa. Stand still; that’s a good fellow!”

“You have done me a good turn, young man,” added the colonel, who felt compelled to express his obligations.

“I’m glad to serve you, sir,” answered Nick, struggling to be modest.

“Come to my house, when you get back to town, and I will make it all right with you.”

“O, it’s all right now, sir.”

“Not quite,” said the colonel. “You have done well; but this will be a good day’s work for you. You shall be well paid for what you have done.”

“I don’t want any pay, sir, for doing a thing like this,” replied Nick, in the words of the romances he had read.

“Come and see me, at any rate.”

“I will, sir, if you desire; but I don’t wish to be paid for a slight service like this.”

“Won’t you ride home with me?” added the colonel, as he stepped into the buggy, the horse being by this time apparently quite reconciled.

“Thank you, sir; I have a boat here.”

“Very well; but come and see me as soon as you return;” and the magnate started his horse.