Then ’Gustus John gathered up the reins, and the horses, tossing their fine heads, wheeled around, and went down the avenue at a brisk trot, while Eunice and Cricket waved good-by to dear old Kayuna, and threw kisses to Mopsie and Charcoal.
Gayly the horses trotted along the hard country roads, glad of a chance to show their spirits and their speed. Merrily the girls’ tongues wagged, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda on the front seat exchanged delighted glances. They were such a good-natured couple that the children always wondered how they happened to have such a spoiled child as Mamie. Really ’Manda was too good-natured and easy with her. She never could bear to correct or punish her in any way, and since Mamie was not very good to begin with, the result was a bad one, as we know. Too much of our own way is not good for any of us.
An hour of this brisk pace brought them to a roadside hotel, where the horses were watered at a great trough by the side of the road. It was pretty to watch the thirsty creatures, as they plunged their noses deep in the clear, running water, and then drank eagerly. Then ’Gustus John checked them up again, climbed into the light wagon, and then, gathering up the reins, he cracked his whip and they were off once more.
Just after that they had an accident that might easily have been a serious one. The back seat of the wagon could be taken out, so that ’Gustus John could use the space behind for packing jars of butter, and baskets of eggs, when he went to town with “small truck,” as he called it. When the seat was put back, two little iron pieces on the bottom slipped into two little sockets and held it fast. Even without this, the seat would rest pretty securely on the frame-work.
Now, while ’Gustus John had been harnessing that morning, he had just lifted the seat from the barn floor, to put it in place,—for the last time he had used this wagon the seat had been taken out,—when he was called away. He rested it in its place on the body of the wagon; then, without stopping at the moment, to notice if it was secure, went to see what was wanted. When he came back the seat looked all right, and he entirely forgot that he had not yet slipped the little irons into the sockets. It would have been safe enough, in this way, over smooth, level roads, but a jar, or a steep ascent, would have been enough to throw it off the body of the wagon.
After they left the watering-trough, the road wound up a steep hill, a very steep one. Eunice leaned forward and took hold of the back of the front seat.
“Seems to me, Cricket,” she said, “this seat rather wiggles. Hope it won’t slip off.”
“Nonsense! I don’t feel it,” said Cricket. “’Gustus John always fastens it in tight. I’ve seen him lots of times,” and by way of showing her confidence in ’Gustus John’s care, she leaned back with a little unnecessary force. The horses at that moment came to what is called, in the country, a “thank you marm,” which is a sort of mound across the road to act as a water-shed. The wagon gave a jerk as it passed over. This was too much for the seat, which had slipped a little as they climbed the hill, and off it went behind, bringing the two little girls with it, down into the middle of the road. At the same instant the horses sprang forward at a renewed trot, as they swept around a curve to a more level piece of road, and they were out of sight in a moment.
Cricket and Eunice, breathless with their sudden descent, sat on the seat, staring after their chariot in great bewilderment. They had gone over so suddenly, that neither of them had screamed, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda, talking busily over their errands in town, did not know that they had lost their passengers. Suddenly ’Manda, hearing a faint cry in the distance, turned around to see if the children heard it. There was nothing but emptiness behind.
“Lawful suz,” she cried, catching at the reins. “Ef we hain’t ben and gone and lost them children! Turn round, ’Gustus John! turn round, I say!”