CHAPTER VIII.
SECRETS FOR TWO.
“I have done a big thing now, anyhow!” exclaimed Nick to himself, as the great man of Centreport drove off.
But the buggy had proceeded but a short distance before it stopped. Colonel Wimpleton had forgotten something which he wished to say or do, and Nick hastened back to ascertain what more he could do for him.
“Is anything the matter, sir?” asked Nick, as he rushed up to the vehicle.
“No; nothing. I want to say a word to you, young man, before I go,” said the colonel, whose expression was sheepish and embarrassed.
“Yes, sir,” answered Nick, as the speaker paused.
“You are, no doubt, a very discreet young man,” continued the colonel.
“I try to be so, sir.”
“I don’t like to be talked about.”
“No one does, sir.”
“By the merest accident in the world I dropped my reins, and my horse ran away with me.”
“It was only what might happen to any one, sir.”
“Very true.”
“Even to the minister, if he drove a smart horse,” suggested Nick, who exactly comprehended the meaning of the great man.
“Certainly; but people talk more about what I do and say than they do about other folks.”
“Your high position and vast influence make you very prominent in the community, sir. It is not strange they should talk about you.”
“Perhaps not; but I don’t like to be misapprehended.”
In other words, Colonel Wimpleton feared if people knew his horse ran away with him, that they would think he had been drinking too much. He was morbidly sensitive in regard to his besetting vice; and though there was hardly a man, woman, or child within ten miles of Centreport who had not heard that he drank too much, he supposed only a few intimate friends suspected his infirmity. Like all tipplers of his description, he did not believe that he was ever actually intoxicated.
“I understand you precisely, sir,” added Nick. “Nothing happens to any one around here but somebody says he was drunk.”
Colonel Wimpleton frowned.
“Of course, no one can suspect you of anything of that sort, unless he belongs on the other side of the lake,” continued Nick, taking due notice of the frown.
“In a word, young man, you need not mention that my horse ran away to-day,” said the colonel.
“Certainly not, sir; I did not intend to mention it, unless you did so first yourself. I hope I understand my position better than to do such a thing.”
“Keep your tongue still, and you shall not lose anything by it.”
“I understand you, sir; and no one shall ever be the wiser for anything I say.”
“That’s right; come and see me as soon you return. What are you doing up here?”
“I have been down to Grass Springs with Waddie and Miss Minnie,” answered Nick, who thought if he kept the colonel’s secret, the colonel ought to keep his secret.
“Were they out in the boat?”
“Yes, sir; and Tommy Toppleton and Miss Grace were with them.”
“Humph!” sneered the magnate, with a savage frown. “What are they doing there?”
“They are going to have a dinner at the hotel, and a good time generally, I suppose. We met with an accident going down, sir.”
“What was that?”
“Waddie’s boat capsized in the squall, and we were all pitched into the lake.”
“What!” exclaimed the colonel, startled at the intelligence.
“But they are all safe, sir,” added Nick, promptly. “Tommy Toppleton swam out and rescued Miss Minnie.”
“She is safe, then,” said the father, with a sigh of relief.
“O, yes! She is all right now. I didn’t mean to say anything to you about it, sir,” continued Nick, fixing his eyes on the ground, as though he was mortified at the mistake he had made.
“Why didn’t you mean to say anything to me about it?” demanded the colonel.
“Well, sir, only because I make it a point to mind my own business. If you will excuse me, I won’t say any more. I did not intend to mention the subject.”
“What do you mean? What is going on over there?”
“O, nothing, sir,” replied Nick, in just that style of expression which assures the hearer there is a secret to be concealed. “I hope you will not mention the fact that I spoke of the affair, for I had no right to meddle with it.”
“What affair? What are you talking about?” said the magnate, sharply.
“I ought not to have said that the boat was upset.”
“Why not?”
“Because Tommy Toppleton saved Minnie. But I hope you won’t ask me to say anything more about it,” pleaded Nick.
“What more is there to be said?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Yes, there is!” protested the colonel, his curiosity excited to the highest pitch.
“You and Major Toppleton don’t agree very well together, sir; and, so far as you are concerned, I don’t wonder at it. Of course Miss Minnie is very grateful to Tommy; but, really, I must not say anything more. I shall ruin myself with Waddie and Miss Minnie, if they find that I have spoken to you about a matter which does not concern me.”
“Don’t you be alarmed, young man; I will not mention to any one that I have even seen you,” replied the colonel, more gently. “If you have anything to say, speak out.”
“I don’t like to say anything; but I couldn’t help thinking all the morning that you would be very angry if you knew what was going on.”
“What is going on?” demanded the great man, his patience exhausted by the apologies and explanations of Nick.
“Well, sir, one of these days, your daughter, Miss Minnie, will be the wife of Tommy Toppleton,” replied Mr. Van Wolter, desperately. “Of course I give it only as my opinion, and you can take it for what it is worth.”
“The wife of Tommy Toppleton! Why, they are only children!” exclaimed the colonel.
“Tommy is a child of eighteen, and Miss Minnie is a child of sixteen,” added Nick, shrugging his shoulders.
The magnate knit his brow. Fathers are the last to ascertain that their sons and daughters are men and women. He knew that Waddie and Tommy had been quite intimate for several months, and it was possible that the daughter might share these friendly relations. In his estimation, a matrimonial alliance between the two families would be a terrible thing.
“So Tommy saved Minnie’s life,” said the colonel, musing on the probabilities of the case.
“Not quite so bad as that. The Belle would have picked her up in a moment, if he had not gone to her assistance. I was on the point of swimming to her myself; but I got tangled up in the halyards, and was dragged under the boat when she upset. Tom Walton said there was no need of Tommy’s jumping overboard.”
“But he did swim to her?”
“Yes; and Miss Minnie says he is a noble and generous fellow, and all that sort of thing. I saw how the matter was going, and I’ll bet my life it will end in a ring.”
“It shall not! I’ll send Minnie to the other end of the world before any such thing shall happen,” protested the colonel, wrathfully.
“Well, sir, I don’t want to meddle with matters that do not concern me, but I thought you ought to know it,” continued Nick. “I’m not quite sure that Waddie and Miss Grace are not a little sweet with each other, but I don’t like to say anything.”
“I am very glad you have spoken to me about this matter, Nick,” said Colonel Wimpleton. “I think I have been a little blind. Waddie and Tom Toppleton have been together a great deal lately; and now, if the girls are going with them, there certainly will be mischief. I won’t have it!”
“I knew you wouldn’t, sir, if you only knew it; but I’m afraid I’ve made a great mistake in meddling with a matter which does not concern me. Waddie and Miss Minnie would hate me if they knew I had said anything to you.”
“They shall not know it. No one shall know that you have even seen me to-day.”
“They shall not know it from me,” replied Nick, significantly.
“I won’t have it!” repeated the colonel, musing upon the suspected relations between Tommy and his daughter, as he picked up the reins and started his horse.
“There’ll be music over there this afternoon,” muttered Nick, as he walked towards the house where he expected to obtain help in getting the Raven afloat.
Colonel Wimpleton drove a short distance, and then stopped. Drawing a flask from his breast pocket, he drank another dram. He had been to Ruoara to call upon a friend, with whom he had drank several times, and who had presented him this flask of brandy, because the colonel had praised it as a very superior article. His runaway horse had neutralized the effects of what he had taken in Ruoara; but the news given him by Nick had excited him, and under any excitement he drank more freely than usual. Before he reached home he had repeated the draught two or three times. His mind dwelt heavily upon the perils which threatened his family. Nick seemed so unwilling to say anything, that he concluded the case was much worse than he had described it. He was willing to believe that Waddie and Grace, Tommy and Minnie, had met before, and that a double union between the embittered houses was impending. He must put a stop to it without an hour’s delay. Wolf Penniman was the intimate friend of both Waddie and Tommy; and the colonel had no difficulty in believing that he was their confidant and helpmate. In his tipsy condition he hastened on board of the Ucayga, which had just arrived from the foot of the lake. Wolf would know where the culprits were, and should go with him to the place.
Nick reached the house, towards which he had directed his steps, just after twelve o’clock. The “men folks” had come home to dinner, and the farmer’s boys were willing to help him.
“Did you see anything of a runaway horse down the road, about an hour ago?” asked the farmer.
“Yes; I saw a horse hitched to a buggy going it at a pretty lively gait towards Centreport,” replied Nick.
“Do you know what became of it?”
“The horse stopped on the hill below here. I suppose he got tired of running,” answered Nick, cautiously.
“Do you know who it was?”
“No; he was a stranger to me.”
“I was so far off I couldn’t see very well; but it looked a little like Colonel Wimpleton’s team.”
“It wasn’t the colonel’s horse. He passed within a short distance of me. I know the colonel and his team very well. It wasn’t he, I’m very sure,” protested Nick, who could lie a little more easily than he could speak the truth.
“I didn’t know but it might be Colonel Wimpleton. They say he steams it pretty hard now.”
“It wasn’t the colonel, I know; for I saw the man’s face very distinctly. He was a younger man than the colonel.”
The farmer was apparently satisfied, and the two young men accompanied Nick to the place where the Raven was aground. With their friendly aid she was soon floated in deep water, and headed towards Centreport, where she arrived just as the Ucayga was leaving the wharf on her down trip.
* * * * *
[We are ready to let Wolf continue his narrative, from the point where we left him, with Colonel Wimpleton lying on the track, between the rails. The choice brandy presented to him by his friend in Ruoara had been an evil spirit to him, not only inflaming his wrath against his son and daughter, but depriving him of the power to take care of himself. When the train stopped he had got out to ascertain the cause of the delay. The cars started, but he was too tipsy to reach the steps in season to get on board, and was left behind. He shouted, but no one heard him. He was vexed, and believing that brandy was the best medicine for vexation, he took a liberal dose of it from the flask. His repeated libations had impaired his locomotive powers to such an extent that he could hardly walk, and just as the train had backed down to him, his legs gave way, and he fell between the rails. But let Wolf proceed.]