In the meantime the side wheels had dropped off the station platform and the coach had righted itself, but in spite of all that Pinkey and Wallie could do the leaders swung sharply to the left and dragged the wheel horses after them down the railroad track.
When the wheels struck the ties, Miss Mattie Gaskett bounded into the air as if she had been sitting upon a steel coil that had suddenly been released. She was wearing a tall-crowned hat of a style that had not been in vogue for some years and as she struck the roof it crackled and went shut like an accordeon, so that it was of an altogether different shape when she dropped back to the seat.
"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, blinking in a dazed fashion as she felt of her hat.
Old Mr. Penrose, who had elongated his naturally long neck preparatory to looking out the window, also struck the roof and with such force that his neck was bent like the elbow in a stove-pipe when he came down. He said such a bad word that Aunt Lizzie Philbrick exclaimed: "Oh, how dread-ful!" and asked him to remember where he was.
Mr. Penrose replied that he did not care where he was--that if her neck had been driven into her shoulders a foot she would say something, too.
Mrs. J. Harry Stott and Mr. Budlong, who had b.u.mped heads so hard that the thud was heard, were eyeing each other in an unfriendly fashion as they felt of their foreheads, waiting for the lump.
Mr. Stott, who was still patting his lip with his handkerchief, declared:
"Such roads as these r.e.t.a.r.d the development of a county."
"Undoubtedly," agreed Mr. Appel, getting up out of the aisle. "They are a disgrace!"
"We are going _away_ from the mountains--I don"t understand----"
Mr. Stott smiled rea.s.suringly at Mrs. Budlong and told her that Wallie and Pinkey, of course, knew the road.
"I don"t care," she insisted, stoutly, "I believe something"s wrong. We are going awfully fast, and if I thought it was as rough as this all the way I should prefer to walk."
"You must remember that you are now in the West, Mrs. Budlong," Mr.
Stott replied in a kind but reproving tone, "and we cannot expect----"
Mrs. Budlong, who had just bitten her tongue, retorted sharply:
"We certainly could expect a more comfortable conveyance than this. If I live to get out I shall never step foot in it again."
"When we stop at the post-office," said Mr. Budlong in a tone of decision as he clung to the window frame, "I shall hire a machine and go out--the rest of you can do as you like."
If there was dissatisfaction inside the coach it was nothing at all compared to the excitement on the box as the horses galloped down the railroad track. The leaders" mouths might have been bound in cast-iron for all the attention they paid to the pull on their bits, although Pinkey and Wallie were using their combined strength in their efforts to stop the runaways.
"Them dudes must be gittin" an awful churnin"," said Pinkey through his clenched teeth.
"We"ll be lucky if we are not ditched," Wallie panted as he braced his feet.
"Wouldn"t that be some rank! Even if we "rim a tire" we got to swing off this track, for there"s a culvert somewheres along here and----"
"Pink!"
Pinkey had no time to look, but he knew what the sharp exclamation meant.
"Pull my gun out--lay it on the seat--I can stop "em if I must."
Pinkey"s face was white under its sunburn and his jaw was set.
"How far we got?"
"About a hundred yards," Wallie answered, breathing heavily.
"We"ll give "em one more try. My hands are playin" out. You pop it to the roan when I say. Cut him wide open! If I can"t turn him, I"ll drop him. They"ll pile up and stop. It"s the only way."
Pinkey dug his heels into the foot-brace in front and took a tighter wrap of the lines around his hands. He could see the culvert ahead. His voice was hoa.r.s.e as he gave the word.
Wallie stood up and swung the long rawhide braided whip. At the same time Pinkey put all his failing strength on one line. As the roan felt the tremendous pull on his mouth and the whip-thongs stung his head and neck, he turned at a sharp angle, dragging his mate. The wheel horses followed, and some of the stout oak spokes splintered in the wheels as they jerked the coach over the rail.
The pallid pair exchanged a quick glance of unutterable relief. The horses were still running but their speed was slackening as Pinkey swung them in a circle toward the town. Dragging the heavy coach over sagebrush hummocks and through sand had winded them so that they were almost ready to quit when they turned down the main street.
"If we"d "a" hit that culvert we mighta killed off half our dudes. That woulda been what I call notorious hard luck," Pinkey had just observed, when Wallie commenced to whip the horses to a run once more.
"What you doin" that for?" He turned in astonishment.
"Let "em go--I know what I"m about!"
"I think you"re crazy, but I"ll do what you say till I"m sure," Pinkey answered as Wallie continued to lay on the lash.
Imperative commands were coming from inside the coach as it tore through the main street.
"Let me out of this death-trap!" Old Mr. Penrose"s bellow of rage was heard above the chorus of voices demanding that Pinkey stop.
But it was not until they were well on the road to the ranch, and Prouty was a speck, that the horses were permitted to slow down; then Pinkey turned and looked at Wallie admiringly.
"You sh.o.r.e got a head on you, old pard! We wouldn"t "a" had a dude left if we"d let "em out while they was mad."
"It just occurred to me in time," said Wallie, complacently.
"You don"t s"pose any of "em"ll slip out and run back?"
"No, I think we"re all right if nothing more happens between here and the ranch."
After a time Pinkey remarked:
"That lady with the bad heart--she must "a" been scairt. I"ll bet her lips were purple as a plum, don"t you?"
But Wallie, who was far more interested in the probable fact that the coach as a source of revenue could no longer be counted on than in the colour of Miss Eyester"s lips, mumbled that he didn"t know.
CHAPTER XIX
A SHOCK FOR MR. CANBY
The morning following their arrival at The Lolabama, The Happy Family, looking several shades less happy, began coming from their tents shortly after daylight. By five o"clock they were all up and dressed, since, being accustomed to darkened rooms, they found themselves unable to sleep owing to the glare coming through the white canvas.
Out of consideration for his guests, whom he remembered as late risers, Wallie had set the breakfast hour at eight-thirty. This seemed an eternity to The Happy Family who, already famished, consulted their watches with increasing frequency while they watched the door of the bunk-house like cats at a mouse-hole for the cook to make his appearance.