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Tom, The Bootblack; or, The Road to Success, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 32. An Unwelcome Return |
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_ CHAPTER XXXII. AN UNWELCOME RETURN "I wish I know'd the boy would come to no harm," thought John, the coachman. "What made Master Jasper so anxious to have him ride the ugly brute? He wouldn't trust his own neck, but maybe it makes a difference when another's is in danger. I ain't sure but I'd rather my frind, Pat Murphy, would break his neck than mysilf. It's human natur to think of your silf first, and Master Jasper is got his shere of human natur' I'm thinkin'!" Time passed, and still John, as he kept about his work, could not keep his thoughts off the adventurous youth who had ridden Bucephalus. From time to time he went outside the stable, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked up the road, but still nothing was to be seen of either of the boys. "If he can manage the ugly baste, he knows how to ride, that's sure," said John to himself. "I wish I was certain of that same, I do, by St. Patrick." "What are you looking at, John?" asked a voice, near at hand. John turned suddenly, and perceived that it was Mr. Grey who spoke. "I was lookin' to see if the boys was comin' back," said John. "They'll come back in due time. You needn't leave off your work for that." "I wish I knowed that, sir." "Knowed what?" repeated his employer. "That the young man--Mr. Gilbert--would come back safe." "Why shouldn't he come back?" inquired James Grey. "He rode on Bucephalus, sir." "Suppose he did?" "I'm afraid the ugly baste will do him some harm." "I am not afraid. Bucephalus is a spirited horse, I am aware, but he is used to riding, and doubtless can manage him." "So is Mr. Jasper used to riding, but you couldn't hire him to ride Bucephalus." "He has a horse of his own," said Mr. Grey, impatiently, not liking John's pertinacity. "Of course he prefers to ride on his own horse." "Would you ride him yourself, sir?" asked John, shrewdly. "I have had enough of this," said Mr. Grey, sternly. "It is a good rule, John, to mind your own business, and I am forced to remind you of it. Go into the stable, and continue your work. I did not know Gilbert was going to ride Bucephalus, but as he has chosen to do it, I do not feel in the least anxious. I have no doubt he will come back safe." "There he comes, begorra," exclaimed John, suddenly, swinging his hat in joyous excitement, "alive and kickin', sure, and the ugly brute as make and quiet as a lamb, too." "Where?" asked Mr. Grey, sharing John's excitement, but feeling a wicked disappointment in the failure of his evil plans. "Don't you see him, sir? He's jist at the turnin'. Shure he looks like he had mastered the horse, as bowld as a hero." It was as John had said. Side by side at a walk came the two horses with their riders. The fierce steed had found his master, and looked quiet and subdued. Never till that day had he been broken. Till this time he had felt his power, now he felt the power of another. Gilbert seemed perfectly at home on his back, and from his manner no one would have supposed that he had had a hard conflict with the brute, from which, had he not come forth victorious, the result might have been death or serious injury. "He's dangerous," thought his uncle. "A boy who can subdue such a horse must have an unconquerable will. _While he lives, I am not safe._" To John he said, wishing to keep up appearances: "I told you he would come back safe. You only made a fool of yourself by worrying." "Shure he must be a splindid rider, sir," said John, perplexed, "or else he has the divil's own luck, the one or the other." Mr. Grey waited till the boys came up, and John took the liberty of doing the same, though he had been bidden to go back to his work. "How did you enjoy your ride?" he inquired, looking to Gilbert. "I see you rode Bucephalus." "I had a little fight with the horse," answered Gilbert, "but I came off best." "So he undertook to trouble you, did he?" asked Mr. Grey, with curiosity. "Yes. He thought he was master, and undertook first to disobey, and afterward to run away with me. But I think he met his match, didn't you, Bucephalus?" said Gilbert, with a laugh, as he stroked the horse's neck. Bucephalus showed signs of pleasure, and the fierce glance of his eye was softer and more gentle than Mr. Grey had ever known it. "Shure and I'm glad you come back safe, Mr. Gilbert," said John, earnestly. "I don't see how you did it." "I don't think you'll find him so troublesome after this, John," said our hero, dismounting. "We are better friends than we were--eh, Bucephalus?" "Ye must have had a charm," said John, more than half in earnest. "I never saw such a change in a creetur before. He was a lion when he went out, and he comes back a lamb." "It's a great secret," said Gilbert, laughing. "Will it last, do you think?" "I think so. When a horse is once conquered he remembers it." "Shure, thin, he's worth twice the sum he was before," said John. "Do you want me to charge Mr. Grey for my services?" asked Gilbert, laughing. "Shure he could afford to pay you," answered John, "and that handsome." "How far did you go, Jasper?" inquired his father. "About eight miles, sir." "Well, you must be tired and hungry. Come into the house, and the cook shall send you up some lunch." "I am not in the least hungry, sir," said Gilbert. "We lunched at a hotel in the next town." Jasper accompanied his father into the house, but Gilbert remained behind five minutes longer. John's good-natured anxiety for his safety had enlisted his good will, and he thought he would like to chat a while with him. "You seem to be surprised at my coming home safe," he said. "Yes, sir--shure I am. You're the only one I know that could manage the ugly brute, let alone a horse-tamer." "But Jasper has ridden on him. Don't you think I can manage him as well as Jasper?" "Mr. Jasper niver has ridden on Bucephalus." "He told me he had," said Gilbert, in a tone of surprise. "Shure, sir, you couldn't have understood him." "Do you mean to say that he never rode on the horse?" "No; and he wouldn't for a hundred dollars." "What did he mean, then, by telling me he had done so?" "Are you sure he told you so, Mr. Gilbert?" "Yes; he said he had ridden Bucephalus, but not often, as he preferred his own horse." "Then, savin' your presince, he told a lie, but you mustn't tell him I said so." "I won't betray you; but I don't see why he should deceive me," said Gilbert, regarding the coachman with perplexity. "Did Mr. Grey ever ride on him?" "No, sir, and he wouldn't. He'd be afraid of his life." "Did you ever ride on him yourself, John?" "Yes, sir, I did that same. I rid him once too often. Before I knew where I was I found myself lyin' in the road lookin' up to the stars, of which I saw plenty, though it was broad daylight." "How long ago was that?" "Two months ago, jist after we got him. I hain't been on his back since." Gilbert now began to look serious. He was beginning to understand a little better how matters stood. "I shouldn't think Mr. Grey or Jasper would have let me ride him if he was so dangerous," he said, after a pause. "Nor I," said John. "Faith, they care less for your neck than their own, I'm thinkin'." "It is lucky I am a good rider, or you might never have seen me again. I conquered him, but it wasn't easy. Six months ago he would have conquered me." "All's well that ends well," said John, philosophically. "He won't be up to any more of his tantrums when you are on his back, I'm thinkin'. Horses have a good mimery, and they know their master." "I shall not be afraid to ride him now. But I must go into the house." Gilbert entered the house. He did not enter his uncle's presence at once, but went up to his room and seated himself thoughtfully at the window. "Can it be that he meant to risk my life?" he said to himself. "I am in his way, I know, but is he capable of such a crime?" He could not decide. He was not prone to think evil of others, yet he felt that it was necessary to be on his guard. _ |
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