"Now everything's all right again," said Jimmy, quite happily. "Just think what tough luck it would have been if he'd broken his neck. It doesn't pay to drive a horse with a broken neck. Just a waste of time.

Never buy a horse with a broken neck, son, unless you are in the tallow business."

"Bill's all right, but--but--there seems to be somethin' wrong with the shaft on this side. It wobbles," said the driver.

Jimmy went around to the other side and inspected it.

"Humph! Does wobble," he admitted. "It's cracked. However, that's all right. Just think how bad it would have been if it had broken in two.

Now, as it is, maybe it'll last till we get to Mountain City, and I'll pay for a new one. You see, partner, all these little things are sent to try our fort.i.tude and philosophy."

Again they moved ahead, and Jimmy whimsically homilized that it wasn't how a shaft looked or felt that counted, but whether it did its work.

"Why, if everybody in this world who is cracked was chucked aside as useless, I reckon there'd be mighty few folks left to do things," he insisted. "There'd be milk without crocks, and jobs without men; girls without sweethearts and churches without bells, son. Being cracked isn't a sin, it's just being common!"

"Whoa! Whoa, Bill! She's busted for good now, Mister!"

The damaged shaft had snapped ominously and the hara.s.sed Bill this time threatened to kick the whole exasperating outfit to kindling wood if his heels held out long enough to accomplish such a worthy job.

"I'm getting used to this snow, now; I like it!" a.s.serted Jimmy, as he again got out to make an inspection. "We folks from Maryland always did appreciate snow. It makes us understand the general air of chilliness that seems to hover around New England Yanks. Well, looks as if we'd have to steal a fence rail somewhere, boy, if we wish to continue this delightful journey. Ah, there's a nice old stake-and-ridered layout over there. I always knew they were the best kind of fences for country roads. They do come in handy, all right. You hold William and explain things to him while I grab one."

He waded into a ditch where the snow was waist high, floundered up a bank, and selected a fairly straight fence rail that would serve his purpose, and wallowed back with it. Once he fell and got snow up his sleeves as high as his elbows.

"Now some folks would swear that was cold and uncomfortable," he remarked as he shook it out in chunks, "but I like it, because I know it's clean. It'd be awfully good in a c.o.c.ktail just about now! Snow? Why I've known time in a jay town down in Louisiana when I'd have cried with joy for anything as cool as that to put in even plain water. 'We never appreciate our blessings till we get 'em,' as the Mormon said just before his seventeen wives swung him up on the limb of a tree."

For a time he watched Bill struggling along dejectedly, but was glad that his improvised shaft support served and contemplated the pa.s.sage of time that must intervene before they reached Mountain City. And then Bill again stumbled, and stopped as if in despair.

"I think maybe his feet's balled up," suggested the boy.

Jimmy climbed out and lifted Bill's extremities, hoof by hoof, patiently digging off the snow stilts with his pocket knife, until at last he found one hoof with a shoe missing.

"Well, well, well! No wonder you stumbled, old fellow," he sympathized.

"Cast a shoe, have you? Must have been back there where you fell! That's too bad. You can't wear one of mine, or you'd be welcome. Must have another put on up in Mountain City. Don't mention the expense. My firm's rich. We often give horse shoes away on Christmas--paper ones, you know!"

And the faithful and valiant Bill, relieved of one shoe and four big collections of snow, hobbled forward again until he came to the foot of a hill that seemed to stretch clear to the moon, and then for the first time acted as if he had given up entirely and succ.u.mbed to misfortune.

"How far is Mountain City, now, son?" asked Jimmy, not without some betrayal of anxiety.

"It's right up on top of that hill," said the boy, "But that hill's just one mile and a half long."

"Good!" declared Jimmy, "you sit here and steer the beast, and I'll get out and help and encourage him by leading him. I always was fond of wading in snow. Cools off one's temper, walking in the snow does. If every man who lost his temper had to walk a mile and a half uphill through the snow, before he could say or do anything else, there would never be a murder in this world, no divorces, and--by gosh!--maybe no marriages either. That would be a calamity. Snow certainly does cool one off."

An hour later when, after frequent rests and short but strenuous efforts, they halted at the top of the hill and saw the main street of Mountain City ahead of them, Jimmy said to the boy as he climbed back, panting, into the sleigh, "Son, we learn by experience; but it's only the wise and experienced man who knows that ignorance is bliss. There's a lot of things in this life that I don't want to know anything at all about in the future. Alpine climbing; politics, and votes for women are all off my list. The only things I'd like to investigate are warm drinks, hot grub, and the insides of a pair of dry socks, shoes and breeches! And with that knowledge I'd be content. If you can find the way to the hotel without straying, I'll forgive you for what you didn't know about the way up here, and we'll begin all over again. Once more we're on our merry way!"

Evidently Judge Granger was unknown to the hotel keeper of Mountain City, for no comment was made on Jimmy's arrival and the place seemed warm, comfortable, and luxurious after the snow drifts of the mountains.

Jimmy first phoned the railway station where he learned that Number Sixteen was still belated but was expected through by midnight. Inasmuch as Bad Fortune had been conquered by optimism, Good Fortune now smiled upon the optimist. He purchased dry underwear, dry shoes, and dry trousers for himself, and astonished the boy who had so valiantly supported him by the presentation of a new suit of clothes, new red flannel underwear, and new shoes.

"Lord! It'd never do for me to send you back home sniffling with a cold," he explained to the lad. "Your maw would never forgive me, and--I reckon I've got enough enemies amongst the women of this locality without adding her to my list. Heaven help me if ever I go back there again! They'd boil me alive in a soap kettle, and feed my fat to the pigs! Now we shall look after the requirements of Rosinante, my little Sancho Panza. Then we shall eat."

By liberal payment he succeeded in inducing the village wagon maker to put in a new shaft that night, and the village blacksmith immediately took on the work of replacing the lost shoe. Then he inspected the stable where Bill was to sleep, bought a full bale of clean straw, a double quant.i.ty of oats, and induced the hostler to give Bill an extra rub and an extra blanket.

"Nothing's too good for us to-night, son," he explained to his admiring supporter. "I feel like going on a bat. Just the same as Daniel probably did after he got out of the lion's den. I'll bet ten to one that the first thing he said after they hoisted him out was to ask the king what he'd have to drink. Hospitality, my boy, is the guarantee of appreciation. Both those who give and those who accept are satisfied, which is unlike nearly all other bargains made in this world. This is applicable to everything except jails. Remember my preachments after I am gone, and you'll never get into the latter--that is--if you can run fast enough!"

They still tell, in that hotel, of the meal he had specially prepared to celebrate his escape from the Philistines. Long before it was through the boy was speechless.

"Gee! Can't eat any more," he declared after a third piece of hot mince pie.

"What's the matter? New suit of clothes too tight? Well, son, here's another piece of advice," said Jimmy, as he helped himself. "Trouser bands aren't made of rubber because all tailors are rich men who never get hungry. By leaning toward the table and pretending to fool with your serviette, it's easy to open the top b.u.t.tons under your vest without anybody noticing that you're going to make a fresh start. This is a form of politeness that is necessary lest you alarm your host. Always do it that way, and in the meantime, if you can think of one, tell a funny story. It serves to distract attention from what you're doing, which is the success of all card tricks, sleight-of-hand performances, and getting a tummy full. Also that is probably the reason why napkins are worn in the lap instead of in the neckband of your collar. Incidentally I see there is a neglected raisin sticking to your chin, which leads me to further observe that food is worn inside and not outside your face.

That's right! Don't waste it! I knew you wouldn't!"

He stopped suddenly, looked at his watch and said, "Great Scott! I forgot one thing! How late does the Emporium keep open? Nine o'clock?

Oh, then I've got time. I must telephone Mister--Umm-m-mh!--Wade, did you say his name was?"

The boy looked alarmed, but Jimmy explained. "You see he expected you back to-night. He didn't know how bad the roads were. I must tell him you'll not be back before to-morrow morning. What's the 'phone number?

37? Good. I'll go now and tell him. You stay here until I come back.

We're going to have coffee."

Jimmy hastened out to the 'phone and was thankful that it was conveniently placed in a cabinet, for he was rather uncertain what might be said, or, indeed, whether the telephone might not explode from heat generated at the other end of the line. He got Wade without difficulty, and again Fortune smiled.

"Mr. Wade," he said in his customary cheerful voice, "I made an address at the court house this afternoon, and--er--the exigencies of my departure led me to commandeer the services of your delivery boy, Tim, I think his name is. What's that?"

He stopped, puzzled for the moment by the loud burst of laughter from the other end of the line, and then a question, cautiously uttered as if the speaker were afraid of being overheard, "Where are you, Judge?"

"Mountain City Hotel."

"Oh, up there, eh? Glad you got away safely. I heard that you were last seen eloping with Tim and my nag Bill. And--can you hear me?--Yes?--well, secretly I was tickled to death that you got away! This thing of votes for women--you understand! Glad you handed it out straight. Of course I can't say so out loud, but----"

"Thanks!" said the relieved Jimmy. "I'm sending Tim and Bill back in the morning. Also I'd like to give Tim an envelope with a ten dollar note in it to pay for the use of the rig if you'll accept it."

"S-s-s-h!" came back over the telephone. "Don't say a word! I'll not have it! You can pay the keep for the boy and horse up there. That's all I'll accept. That and a promise that you'll not give me away! It wouldn't do for me to let it be known that--you understand, Judge!"

And Jimmy left the telephone box in an extraordinary good humor and sauntered back to his coffee.

He insisted on inspecting the room that he had engaged for his guest, and extravagantly ordered a fire for it. He insisted on his guest retiring, but the guest, reduced to a state of adoration, rebelled and saw him off when the train pulled out from Mountain City at 11:30 that night.

Mr. James Gollop settled himself comfortably into a seat therein and emitted a great sigh of content.

"As the copy book used to say at school," he thought, "'Count that day lost whose low descending sun, views o'er thy work without some worthy person done.' And if in one place in his bailiwick I haven't fried that codfish Granger to a crisp, it's not because I haven't been industrious.

I've been as busy as a horse with a wooden leg trying to win the Derby!"

CHAPTER VIII

Recovering his luggage at the junction with the main line, and traveling an additional forty miles after such a strenuous day, predisposed the indefatigable Mr. Gollop for a long night's rest. Finding himself again in a modern little city with a first cla.s.s hotel, and a luxurious bed aided the ministrations of nature, so that it was after ten o'clock in the morning when he whistled his way to his bath and then carefully selected a clean outfit for the day's work. He hummed like a particularly lucky hummingbird while he shaved, and felt like hoppity-skipping down to the grill room, where his healthy appet.i.te might have full play. He found himself a nicely cushioned alcove through whose window he could look out on the clear, brilliant morning with its dazzle of snow, and at the same time luxuriate in the steam heated atmosphere within. The world seemed turning very well and happily, as far as Mr. James Gollop could observe and feel, and he gave his order and was rendered grateful when an excellently trained waiter laid before him the morning papers. And then Mr. Gollop sat up and grinned with the culminating joy of the morning!

The paper he had first glanced at was rabidly Democratic and sported a huge headline completely across the front page which read:

"Gubernatorial Candidate Mobbed in Yimville."