The Flight of Pony Baker / A Boy's Town Story

at he did not mind any of the things at home that used to vex him; and it really seemed as if his father and mother were trying to act better. They were

e that Jim was not leading him into mischief whenever they were off together. She was always wanting him to go with his cousin Frank, and he would have liked to ask Frank about running off, and whether a fellow had better do it; but he was ashamed, and

was one of

other would

safe

etween the crowd and the mischief that a crowd of boys nearly always wants to do. His own mother felt easy about the younger children when they were with Frank; and in a place where there were more chances for a boy to get sucked under mill-whe

own, Frank almost always had some of them in charge. When he went hunting, or fishing, or walnutting, or berrying, or in swimmin

ut if he had not got many walnuts, or any at all-as sometimes happened-it was not a great hardship to haul his brother home in the wagon. To be sure, when he wanted to

ut from under the ice, and afterwards partly let in again. This lifted the ice-sheet, but not back to its old level, and the ice that clung to the shores shelved steeply down to the new level. Frank stepped on this shore ice to get

unger brothers slipping down the shore ice and going under the ice-sheet, and he would break into a cold sweat at the idea. This shows just the

ot look into his face, a little more careworn than it ought to be at his age, without putting perfect faith in him, and trying to get something out of him. That was how he came to do so many errands for mothers who had plenty of boys of their own; and he seem

th that pocketful of money, and why he had a yo

t once with his mother when he was eleven years old. She was going to take passage there on a steamboat and go up the Ohio River t

father and mother, and it was his boat that she was going on. It lay among a hundred other boats, which had their prows tight together along the landing for half a mile up and down the sloping shore. It was

ham in chafing-dishes with lamps burning under them to keep them hot; pound-cake with frosting on, and pies and pickles, corn-bre

went ashore with them, and walked up the landing towards the hotel where the carriage was left, so as to be with Frank and his little brother as long

garden gate was fastened so that the cows could not get in, and feed the chickens regularly, and put the cat out every night, and

ck to the Boy's Town when he came up and spoke to Mrs. Baker. They had started from home after a very early breakfast, and she said it seemed as if they had been gone a year already. The merchant told her that he had been looking eve

ng up the river on a visit to mother; but if I was going straight back, I wouldn't take your two thousand dollars for the half of it. I would be afr

ding money by express, or telegraphing it, and the merchant told her he was afraid to trust the money in the mail. He asked her who was going t

is brother home before dark, he brightened up all of a sudden, and he asked, "Is Frank going back?" and he looked down into Frank'

d pulled him away, and said, "Indeed, indeed, t

is hand into the pocket of Frank's nankeen trousers and felt; and then, before Mrs. Baker could stop him, he drew a rol

, "and that's just it! He'd worry about it

pay a note, and he did not know any way to get it to his partner if she would not let Frank take it; that he was at his wits' end. He said he would as lief

to trust Frank, and at last she consented. Mr. Bushell explained that he wished his partner to hav

er anxiety about this that began the whole trouble; for when the driver came with the carriage, she could not help asking him if he was sure to get home before sundown. That made him drive faster than he might have done,

ins, and people began to hollo, "Look out where you're going!" when they met them or passed them, and all at once Frank began to think the horses were running away. He had not much chance to think about it, though, he was so busy keeping his l

ill's Creek, and passed the Four-Mile House. By the time they reached the little village bey

d he knew what the matter was. There was a horse standing at the hitching rail, and the butcher just had time to untie him and jump into the saddle whe

was all; but the carriage was so much shaken up that it had to be left at a wagon-shop, where it could not be

gh when he felt his brother all over and found him safe and sound, and then put his hand on his pocket and found that Mr. Bushell's money was still there. He

leeping. He got up and put on his clothes and sat down by the window, listening to his brother's breathing and looking out into the dark at the heat-lightning in the west. The day had been very hot and the night was close, without a breath of wind. By-and-by all the noises

and he did not undress; for if he took his pantaloons off, he did not know how he could make sure every minute that the money was s

ook the whole house; and the room looked full of fire. Another crash came, and then another, with a loud, stony kind of rolling noise tha

fening, and it never stopped a moment. The lightning hardly stopped, either; it filled the room with a quivering blaze; at times, when it died down,

the money was still safe in his pocket, and whether his brother was alive. He never could tell which he found ou

he Butler Guards in the tavern, firing off their guns, and he could not have heard them. He looked out in the entry, but it was all dark there except when he let the flashes of his room into it. He though

h came, he would listen for his brother's breathing, to tell whether he had been struck by lightning or not. But it kept thundering so that sometimes he could not hear. Then Frank

not so dangerous, and the air got fresher. Still, it blazed and bellowed away, he could never tell how long, and it seemed to him that he must have felt a thousand times for Mr. Bushell's money, and tried a thousan

she knew what had happened to him and his brother, after they left her. And he thought of his father: how troubled he must be at their not gettin

ad a lightning-rod, but the boat could not have one, of course. He felt pretty safe about his father and the older-younger brother who had been l

was broad day, and the sun was making as much blaze in the curtainless tavern-room as the lightning had made. The storm was over, and everything was as peaceful as if there had n

they would reach the Boy's Town, and the carriage had been so badly shattered, or else the driver was so much afraid of the horses, that he would not let them go at more than a

visit, came out and took his little brother in; and the girl told Frank his father had just been there to see whether he had got back. Then he knew that his father must have been as anxious

round to the livery stable the next minute to get another team, and go down towards the city to see what had become of them all. Frank told him what had happened, a

t straight over to his s

out, after he had got rid of his brother, that he was out of breath, almost, by the time he reached Mr. Bushell's store. But even then he could not get rid

at the danger of having it got worse every minute. He hung about a good while, and kept going in and out of the

y. But they cheered up together, and his father said he had done right not to leave the money, and he would just step over, after supper, and give it himself to Mr. Bushel

tner. He trusted it to you, and you ought to have the glory; you've had the ca

tretched from shore to shore, like a tunnel, on its piers. It was rather dim, even in th

ut harm, he could surely get through the bridge safely. There was not likely to be anybody in it, at the worst, but Indian Jim, or Solomon Whistler, the crazy man, and he

ough, this time, and Frank gave him the money, and told him how he had been so long bringing it. The merchant thanked

when he gave it t

idn't," s

d y

t it right into my pocket, and

before it was any darker, but Mr. Bushell's partner said, "Just hold on a minute, won't

and not given him as much as he thought he had? He hardly breathed while Mr. Bushell's partner slowly counted the bank-notes. It took him a long time, and he had to wet his fing

," answered the boy, and he c

artner, and he put the money in his pocket,

hat he forgot to be afraid in the bridge. The fellows who were the most afraid always ran through the br

had got rid of his money, and what Mr. Bushell's partner had said. Frank told him all about

elieve I d

y to you last night, Mr. Bush

I suppose it was the money, father

e been anxious about it? You wouldn't have cared if

en he said he did not belie

ink about

d at last he said. "I re

, would you have been more anxious

uzzled than ever; he reall

hers, and they think that the things it can buy are more precious than the things which all the money in the world cannot buy." His father stood up.