“If you please, mister, I would like to go,” said Chick.
“So you can, my boy; and you, too,” nodding to another, a year older than Chick, and known as Ruddy.
The boys were happy, but Deacon Cornhill was too deeply engrossed over the situation to pay much heed to his young companions, as he gathered up the reins and drove away from the station. This reception was very different from the triumphal entry into town of which he had anticipated.
“The ’squire is still ag’in me, and he means to make trouble,” he said, giving expression to his thoughts. “If he won’t let ’em go on the Hare road, they shall go somewhere. I have it! I’ll put ’em up to Break o’ Day; that’s just what I’ll do. Git along, old Jim! that’s just what I’ll do.”
So absorbed was the good man in his plans that he did not notice he had already got the raw-boned horse into a smart gait, so that the old wagon was drawn through the mud and over the rocks at a tremendous rate, giving the boys about all they could do to hold upon the high-backed seat, while the barrel of flour rolled about at the imminent risk of being sent from the vehicle altogether.
“The Break o’ Day is their only hope,” repeated the deacon, as he rode on.
So absorbed was the good man in his plans and his anxiety to get back to the station, that he failed to heed the tremendous speed he had urged the horse to take until by the time they had reached the outskirts of the village the spirited animal was flying along the country road at the top of its speed. The way was rough, and the wagon jolting over the stony places kept the barrel of flour in constant motion. In fact, an uncommonly severe movement sent one head flying out into the mud, and the white, fluffy mass within, caught up by the wind, flew about like a perfect cloud over the occupants of the vehicle.
“Ginger and snap!” cried Chick, who was enjoying the situation, “ain’t we spinning, Ruddy?”
“You bet! this is better’n the circus. Get up, old nag! If this is country life, it jess knocks the spots off’n New York at her best.”
The boys were enjoying the affair if the deacon was not. Then, in the midst of this wild flight, when it seemed as if the sober member of Basinburg church had really lost his head, those inhabitants of the village who had not gone to the station rushed out of their houses to see what was taking place.