Strange to relate, when this grave mistake had been overcome and all things were in order; in spite of the conclusive evidences of Obadiah’s incompetence, Aunt Kate permitted him to drive. As she climbed into the surrey, she announced, “I’ll sit back here where I can get out if anything goes wrong.”
This precaution as well as the general attitude of his sister towards Archimedes, had persuaded Obadiah that he had to do with a fractious steed, notwithstanding that all outward appearances justified the conclusion that Archimedes was a cow in soul and action.
The mill owner shoved open the sliding door of the barn with an anxious eye upon the fat back as if fearful that he might gallop wildly forth even as a fire horse leaving a truck house in response to an alarm.
Archimedes never budged.
Obadiah climbed clumsily over the front wheel, the reins hanging loosely from his hands. Seating himself, he promptly drew them taut, prepared for any emergency.
“Be careful, Obadiah,” Aunt Kate warned him from the back seat.
“Gid-ap!” Obadiah spoke in a soothing voice suitable to a high strung animal.
Archimedes held his ground.
Obadiah raised his voice in some degree, “Gid-ap!” he exclaimed.
Archimedes might have been cast in a supporting part in an equestrian statue for all the notice he took of what transpired about him.