CHAPTER XXVI
En Route
Bertha gave a little gasp of surprise. An hour ago she would have been most dreadfully dismayed at such a disaster, but now it seemed like a providential chance which would admit of her going to railhead without seriously upsetting the plans of anyone.
“It is not so much what shall I do, as what you can do yourself,” she answered slowly. “I thought that you said you must get home to-night, because you had some work to do.”
“So I must, even though I have to walk every step of the way, although luckily that is not necessary, as I can ride one of the horses,” he answered.
“Would you like me to wait in the town and drive the wagon home when it is mended?” she asked. “I could stay at Mrs. Smith’s boarding-place, where I stayed when I came west, until Tom could meet me.”
“If you could do that I’d be more obliged than I could say. But wouldn’t you be afraid to bring the horse and wagon all those miles alone?”
“Not if you will leave me Jupiter to drive,” she said. “I should be afraid of the black horse because it does rear so, but I could manage the other very well indeed.”
“You are a downright brick of a girl, and I’ll send young Fricker over to Duck Flats to-morrow to tell Eunice that she will have to hang on at your job until you can get back. And we will manage the post office somehow; there is not much business doing these days, that is one comfort under present circumstances,” said Bill Humphries, with an air of huge relief. “I wish that you would just come along with me to Luke Moulden’s and arrange with him about what time he is to have the wagon ready for you the day after to-morrow. My word, but you have taken a load off my mind!” Bill Humphries gave vent to a windy, gasping sigh as he spoke, and hurried through the slush of the badly made sidewalk at such a rate, that Bertha had some difficulty in keeping up with him.
It was not the wheel only which had suffered from the collision, but one side of the wagon was stove in also; and Luke Moulden scratched his head in a dubious fashion when told that he must have it done by the day after to-morrow.
“It is sprung and it is ratched, the panel is broke right through, and, goodness gracious, man! do you think that I can mend your old wagon by steam?” demanded Luke, as he walked round the derelict, surveying the damages which he would have to put straight.