Regardless of the efforts of the mill owner, the steed drifted gradually towards the gutter.

"This horse isn't bridlewise," Obadiah declared in disgust. "I might as well be trying to drive a cow."

"He has more sense than lots of people I know," Aunt Kate answered with a meaning look at her brother. "He wants to get out of the way of automobiles."

For a few minutes Archimedes was permitted to follow the way of the gutter in peace, then, "This is ridiculous," protested Obadiah. "I feel like a perfect idiot driving this way. I'll be hanged if I'll do it." He yanked and shouted at the horse until, fighting every inch of the way, the animal drifted towards the crown of the road.

With nervous eyes, Aunt Kate searched the highway back of them for signs of approaching machines. "Obadiah, look out. Here comes a car," she screamed.

Alarmed at her tone, his body stiffened to meet the shock of imminent collision. He jerked his head about fearfully to perceive a car following them a mile away. "Why did you startle me that way? I thought something was about to hit us," he blurted.

The horn of the approaching machine demanded the road. Obadiah tugged at Archimedes anew. The horse answered but slowly.

"Hurry, Obadiah, they are running into us," screamed Aunt Kate.

The mill owner redoubled his efforts to get out of the way as a series of frantic squawks and the grind of brakes sounded from behind them.

In desperation, Obadiah jerked out the whip and gave Archimedes a smart clip. The horse bounded clumsily and stopped in the middle of the road.

The petted animal's astonishment at this treatment was such that he had to pause for consideration.

"Don't you strike my horse that way," cried Aunt Kate indignantly, her mind diverted from the menacing automobile by the punishment of her property. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Obadiah put up the whip, leaving the motionless Archimedes to meditate upon his injuries in the center of the highway while the automobile worked its way around. It came opposite to them, a flivver of the cheapest type--mere dust beside Obadiah's own car.

A rough, angry man glared at the mill owner and bawled, "You old moss-back, do you think that you own this road? When somebody takes a wheel off of that old ark, it may"--the voice was very doubtful--"knock some sense into your bean. Don't you know enough to put out your hand when you stop, you mutton-headed fool. If there was a constable about I'd have you chucked into the calaboose."

Obadiah sat speechless under this insolence. Possibly he was becoming inured to unkind words. As the car disappeared in the distance his tongue was loosened, "Kate, did you get their number?" he inquired with great anxiety.

"No. Why on earth should I want their number? I hope I never see them again."

He almost stammered in the flood of his wrath. "If I had it, I'd prosecute them--have them fined and put in prison."

"What for--scolding us?" inquired Aunt Kate softly.

He did not answer for a time. When he turned his temper had departed.

"Kate, I was wrong, I suppose," he said.

She looked at him curiously and there was affection in her glance; but her voice was stern as she replied, "Obadiah, you were headstrong and it led you into trouble, as it used to when you were a boy."

"Yes, Kate." In Obadiah's tones was a new note.

Thereafter, Archimedes pursued his way in the safety of the gutter until they turned into a little used lane where great trees, decked in wonderful autumnal colors, arched overhead, and unkempt hedges brushed their wheels. The birds, disturbed in their preparations for their trip South, made short, noisy flights ahead of the vehicle, protesting against the intrusion.

Regardless of this, Obadiah and Archimedes, meditating upon recent injuries, pursued the path that fate would have them follow.

CHAPTER XXI

THE TRIUMPH

When Virginia and Helen came up the path towards the Curtis home, they missed the little figure of Charles Augustus hobbling forth to meet them with joyous greetings.

"We'll go to the front door," suggested Helen. So they pa.s.sed around the house and, ascending the steps, knocked at the weather-beaten front entrance.

"Come in," cried the shrill voice of Charles Augustus. "I can't open the door."

Virginia obeyed the command of the child with a smile of delight. As she swung the door back, the pleasant odor of frying doughnuts a.s.sailed her nostrils. Looking through the rooms, she could see Mrs. Curtis in the kitchen, fork in hand, awaiting their entrance with a look of inquiry which melted into a smile of welcome as she recognized them.

In the midst of pillows, Charles Augustus sat in one chair with his legs propped up upon another. As usual, he was bright, cheerful and talkative.

Virginia turned towards the child and then she gave a little gasp of joy as a big fellow with black eyes and a wonderful smile lifted himself with a cane and limped towards her.

"Joe!" she trilled, her sparkling blue eyes revealing her heart's rejoicing. "Joe!" she repeated, in a voice which breathed its own enchantment.

He was almost to her, his face alight with his happiness.

"Joe!" she whispered again, and gave a startled glance of astonishment as this huge fellow with dancing eyes stood upon one leg, balanced himself with his cane and thrust forth an encircling arm. Rooted to the spot, she could not evade it as it drew her to him and, with fascinated eyes and curious thrills, she watched his head bend slowly towards her.

"Joe"--this time it was the voice of his mother speaking--"Where did you meet Virginia?"

His head went up and his arm dropped at his side. Virginia released his arms which she had clutched and, with reddened, telltale faces, they turned to Mrs. Curtis.

"We met in South Ridgefield, mother," he told her, and the girl gave an embarra.s.sed nod of agreement.

"Hum," said Mrs. Curtis. The utterance meant little but her manner much. She disappeared only to return in a moment with a plate of doughnuts and a pitcher of milk. "Who is hungry?" she asked.

Among the young people, famine stalked abroad. In its relief, flushed faces regained their normal color and Helen's mischievous giggles were quieted sufficiently for her to meet Joe with becoming gravity before giving her attention to her own sweetheart.

But alas, the course of true love is never smooth. Charles Augustus made energetic protest when he became aware that Helen proposed to offer him nourishment by hand after the manner in which infants but recently weaned are treated. "Lemme be! My hands aren't lame," he objected.

An unhappy look spread over his face. "I get so tired sitting in this old chair. Every little while, too, mother rubs my leg and works it up and down. Ding bust it, that hurts."

Helen, giving up her attempt to feed the boy, endeavored to sooth and comfort him. "In a week or so you will be running about without a sign of a crutch. Think of that. Won't that be fine?"

"I should be out now," he grumbled. "Something might happen to my hornet's nest."

"Don't you worry," Helen laughed. "Neither man nor beast will interfere with that."

"How is Miss Knight?" Virginia asked Joe.

"Bossy as ever," he answered.

"She was a good nurse and she was nice to you, Joe."

"Yes," he admitted with a chuckle; "but she is a whole lot nicer to Mike Kelly these days."