But the boys had something on their minds besides Skeeter Butts. On their long run from the little branch where the bridge had been blown up, Org had thought of something that would attract the attention of the people in Tickfall and register in their minds the fact that he and Little Bit were in town.
Org had ridden with his Uncle Tom in the automobile, and had seen Colonel Gaitskill shut off the power from the engine and coast down the hill from his house to the town. This had given Org an idea on which he had been working for several days. Under a shed in the rear of the Gaitskill stable there was an abandoned, worn-out buggy, without any shafts. Org had tied a rope to each end of the front axle near the front wheels, and had found by experiment that he could guide the buggy by pulling on the rope, just as if he were driving a horse. Little Bit had pushed the buggy around the smooth, level horse-lot and Org had been able to guide it without difficulty.
So now, confronting this emergency, he decided that the best game he could play would be that of coasting down the Gaitskill hill toward the town in that old buggy. It would be plenty of fun of a kind that would attract attention from those in town.
He instructed Little Bit what to do, and the two boys pushed the buggy out of the horse-lot and stopped it on the brow of the hill. Org climbed into his buggy on the top of the hill just about the time that Skeeter Butts seated himself in his automobile beside Dazzle Zenor at the foot of the hill.
The two started about the same time.
Skeeter planned to go up the street about a block, then turn to his right and go out the principal street to the Nigger-Heel plantation.
Org expected to stop at the foot of the hill, and push his buggy back to the top and coast down again.
One thing that Org had overlooked was that his Uncle Tom’s automobile had a brake. The buggy lacked that very important accessory, and when Little Bit pushed it off and climbed on behind, it had not traveled one hundred feet until it was going thirty miles an hour. Half-way down the hill it was “doing fifty,” and at the foot of the hill it was just a rattling horror of incredible speed with momentum enough to carry it half a mile on a level road.
That Providence which looks out for fools, drunken men, and children, gave the buggy just the right turn at the right time to shoot it out toward Main Street. Its momentum carried it across the street like a rocket, sent it plunging madly across the court-house lawn, hurled it into the middle of a lot in the rear of the court-house where the country people hitched their horses and mules, and there it ended its sensational and spectacular flight by colliding with a hitching-rack, spilling out the two boys like peas are tossed from a spoon, and tearing itself to pieces!
The two youngsters sprang up unhurt and made tracks away from there.