“But that’s too young; you wont think of entering right away, will you?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “I may have to wait a bit, but I sha’n’t know how to; if it only wasn’t for being a freshman, and the hazing, and all that. I don’t see how a fellow is ever to get through with that part of it, but I suppose I’ve got to be hazed wherever I go. If I can live through it, ’twill be better than to be shut up in a store all my life. I don’t see how you make it go, with such a smooth face.”
“Don’t you?” said Aleck, laughing; “come and try it a while, and perhaps you’ll see.”
“No, thank you,” said Tom, “I should hate it so that they would turn me off in a very short time. It’s hard enough to make a fellow’s way in the world if you let him take the way he likes best, and I’m thankful enough I’ve got the promise ahead for all the study I can do for the next eight or ten years. I shall have to strike out for myself then, and it will be tough enough, I suppose, but I don’t mean to worry myself about that till the time comes. Come down to-morrow, wont you?”
Tom went off, and Aleck soon followed towards home, for it was his hour to go to tea. He walked quickly, for he begrudged every moment lost on the way, and was soon near the house, with some thoughts running on that came up once in a while, and which went to make up the only secret ever kept between himself and Nelly. Tom was right about business. To be sure, his own came nearer to being professional than almost anything, and there was some comfort in helping to save people’s lives, if he did only come in as second fiddler. But his dream of a profession! Neither Uncle Ralph nor Nelly should ever have a suspicion of the sacrifice he was making. Why should they? If there didn’t happen to be money enough for him to study on, it was no fault of theirs; and if Uncle Ralph could take any pleasure in having him in the store, why, he need not think the favor was all on that side; he had something to be thankful for himself.
But what was that sound behind him? A horse’s hoofs flying wildly up the pavement, and wheels swaying from one side to the other of the street! He turned, and one glance was enough to show him what was happening, and that he had better look out for himself while there was time. It was Tom Haggarty’s father and the horse he was accustomed to drive quietly past on his way home every night; but in some way the animal had become terrified and altogether beyond his control, and was dashing wildly up the road, and aiming now directly for the spot where Aleck stood. Aleck had just time to spring aside and mount his doorstep with a flying leap when the wheels struck the curbstone, the horse’s hoofs clattered on the sidewalk, there was a crash, a plunge, an overthrow, and in another moment the horse had cleared himself from the carriage, and was dashing madly on, while his owner lay senseless on the pavement.
In an instant a group had gathered about the fallen man, but Aleck was first among them, raising his head and searching hastily for his pulse.
“All right so far,” he said; “he’s breathing yet, but—” and he glanced quickly towards the window. Nelly was standing there, and answered the look with a beckoning signal.
“Lend a hand here, will you?” said Aleck; “we’ll get him inside and then see what’s to be done next.”