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Thunderbolt's Victory

Thunderbolt's Victory image
Parent Issue
Day
23
Month
March
Year
1882
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

There are still a few towns in Massachusetts where the railway train s never seen and where there is no telegrapb. An unpainted farmhouss, big and square, with long barns and sheds in the rear, stood in such a town. It was a day in September, as hot and sultry as rf it were midsummer. A doctor'a sulky had just driven up to the gate, and the horse stood hitched at the post. In #te yard, lying under one of the elms, was a boy ot about thirteen. He was thin and pale; but there was a bright, resolute look in his eyes, that attracted one. Fred Appleton had been in Warnham for a couple of months. He had been sent out by his únele, that he might have the benefit of country air, after a long and prostrating fever. The lad's eyes were fixed on the open door which led into the hall. Everything in the house was ominou3ly still. Out of doors the chickens were "craking" about the yard and making sudden runs at insects. Now a low groan from the room at the left of the front door made Fred start and grow pale. His hands shut themselves hard with an involuntary motion. Not another sound was heard for nearly half an hour, and then steps approached from within the house and the doctor came out on the piazza. He was followed closely by a middle-aged woman. Neither of them appeared to notice Fred and both stopped at the gate. "Doctor, how is it?" asked Mrs. Morris, in a voice that was not steady. "Bad! very bad! It's a case wbere I caunot speak with hopo. It was an awful fall from that scaffold. Take eare of her as I have said. It's all that can be done. It is heartbreaking to hear her cali for her father." The doctor was evidently in a hurry. He jumped into his carriage and rode away, leaving Mre. Morris standing there. The woman looked after him a moment with unseeing eyes, then she wrung her hands violently, while she exclaimed, in a low voice: "If Charles had not gone! II he could only be detained!" Fred Appleton rose, carne quietly forward, and touched the woman's arm. "Is Clara going to die?" he asked Mrs. Morris immediately made an ffort to control herself, and said: "] am afraid so. It was a bad i'all. Oh it is very hard!" "Yoa just spoke about her father Cannot word be got to him before he goea on board the steamer?" the bo; asked; Mrs. Morris trembled. The girl lying iu the house was her niece and about the same age as Fred. She was the oniy ehild of her brother, Charles Roth, and dear as her own daughter to er, The father had gone. He was on his way to Boston, to embark on board a Cunard steamer for Europe. He had remained in Warnham until the last moment, and had just time to reach the city, if' nothing delayed him. "It can't be done!" Mrs. Morris answered. "It can't be done! The telegraph station is ten miles away! Before any one could go there Charles will have left, and once on the water, nothing can reach him. God help us! The first news he hears the other side the Atlantic will break his heart!" Pred stood an instant, with his bright glance fixed on his companion's face. "Isn't there time to reach Northport?" he asked. "There's not a horse in the town oould do it," was the reply. Fred's eyes lightened. "Thunderbolt could," he aaid, quickly, "and, Mrs. Morris, I will ridc him. Clara's father shall know." The boy started away, but lie was followe] and his arm caught, as Mrs. Morris cried: "He will throw you! You know you are afraid of him! You must not do it! And yon couldn'l reach there." "There's a chance of ray doÍDg it, isu't tbeie?" he turned back to ask. "Jusfc a chance." "And no time to lose!" cried Fred, áV he bounded toward the barn. It was u-ue tliat Fred was afraid of Thunderbolt, for the colt had kicked him when he had first come to the iaroi, aud Fred had naturally feit a Iittle timid afterward, for his health bad not been robust enough toenable him to overeóme fear as he otherwise would have done. When the boy entered the barn, a shrül whinny greeted him, and a loug, black hcad, with big, wild-looking eyei, wt.s turned toward him frons one of the Btalls. Fred, as he had said, had no time to Io3e. He could not stop to think whether he wished to go in the stall or not. He stepped in quickly, with the bridle on bis arm, and in two minutes aore the saddle was on the hoise's back, and iho boy had flung himself on alsi and gathered up the reiös. He kiicw how fierce of temper the youog horse was, and he knew that he might take the notion to stop and kick and throw himself about, that he might unseat his rider; and he knew also that Thunderbolt. if he ohose, might cover ten miles in bo short a time that he might hope to reach Northport in season. Mrs. Morris, sitting by the insensible girl, hcard the rush of the horse's feet as they went out of the yard, and an inaudible prayer was in her heart. She glanced at the clock which was ticking on the mantel, and she told herself' the thing the boy was trying to do was impossible. She knew that Thunderbolt had made great speed, and tbat he promised wonderful things, if he could be trainee!; but how could he have sufficient endurance for this trial, and how would he go over the hills that lay between this and Northport? No, she must not hope that her brother would be brought back . He would sail ; and every hour would take him farther from the child whom he idolized and who had met with such a fate. As the moments went on and the girl still was quiet, under the influence of the opiate the doctor had given her, Mrs. Morris's thoughts dwelt more on the courage of the boy who had just ridden away. She knew that no man would have liked that ride, and that it was dangerous to any one. Then she feil to fearing that she ought not to have allowed him to go. What if he should be thrown, and be brought home crippled or dead?' But it had all been so sudden that she could not stop him. There was no man about the place. Her husbaud and the hired man were two miles away, attending to some late-cut gras?. They would not be at home until dark. Mrs. Morris must do what so many women have to do - wait and pray. Along the narrow country road Fred Appleton wa3 riding at a pace that made him breathle3S at first, and his heart was beating all through him in a way that feit as if it would kill him, but he had no thought of abating his pace. That must not be. ?here was not a braver boy for many a mile than Fred Appleton, and he ïad made up his mind that it ehould ,ake a very powerful effort to get ïim off of' Thunderbolt's back. Had he been more robust in health, he might have enjoyed this furioue start. As it was, af ter a few moments when the colt had settled down into its tremendou8 stride, Fred grew accustomed to thus cleaving the sultry air and sat more serenely, while he feit that savage exultation which comes to one who sits on an animal who seeras to have power to anmhiate space. Fred for the moment forgot his errand in the intoxication of so flying Lhrough the air. It was no longer bot. The air swept against his face with a forcé alrnost like that of a couünuous blow. Thunderbolt appeared to have a power beyond the power of a mere horse. Fred flung up his hand and uttered a shrill whoop. He was monarch of' a forcé as good as any in the "Arabian Nights." He would not exchange hia scat on Thunderbolt for any magical gift in that book. At sound of his cry the colt lurched for ward still faster and snorted, as if th heavy, fragrant atmosphere wer something which made him drunk. Already they had passed throug one village, which was three mile away from the farm-house ht lia left. The boy was by thia time fillec with the inebriation of his strang ride. He wanted to go faster and faster. His cheeks were red and his eyes burned. He told himself that he must reach Bucket Village by a certain time, and Bucket Village was half way to Northport. It was a place where the whole business was the making of woodea pails of different kinds. Now, just before he carne to a shsirp turn in the road, there emerged from round the corner the first of tbree tall, long wagons, piled high with woodeu pails. Fred, warned by the pricking up of the horse's ears, gathered the lines more firmly in his hands and made himaelf as strong ou his seat as possible; and all bis precautions were nece88ary, for Thunderbolt leaped to one side as he shot by the wagons. The boy swayed fearfully; but he stuck, and then the co!t rose high in the air, his front feet pawing out, his wbole figure the picture of tetrible beauty. Fred had reaohed that pitch where it was impossible for him to fear anything; he was too thoroughly filled with excitement; but he was afraid that Thuiiderbolt would now "eut up some of his antics," and thus delay their arrival in Northport. He pulled sbarply at the lines and pounded his heels into the horse's sides, calling out authoritatively to him. The man on the last wagou had jiunpod dowE from his seat and was runïing u p. 'Don't touch him!" cried out V's:f who was aaxious above all ,hings not to be detained, and whoee blood was by this time boiling, nnd who feit as if he could be a match for a hundred Thunderbolts. The mau feil back from before tb e pawing feet, looked in amazenient at the fiery-eyed boy who sat upon the horse. On the second tone of sharp command, the colt, a3 if in surprise, dropped his feet and dartcd away, leaving the man staring. "Good gracious!" he exclaimed, as he walked back to his wagon, "was that 'ere a real horse 'n boy, or an appearance? I hope 'taint a íbrewarnin' of nothin'!" When Fred passed through the next village the clock was ttriking the hour, and the sound sent a thrill of apprehension through him, for it was ten minutes iater than the time at which he had calculated to be in that place. He had come fast enough; it was not that. It must be that the clock at the farm-house had been slow, and what a fatal slowness that might be. Fred thought of Clara; of her ather stepping on board the boat, ever to see her again; and then ame a remembrance of a cart-path which went across a pieceofwoodiand nd oame out on the main road almost i mile nearer Northport than it was y the traveled way. The path must e close by here. He was sure he had ot passed it, and there it was, Withut hesitation he turned his horse's lead in that direction and rode on eneath the low-drooping trees, tfore than half-way through he saw head of him a fallen tree, lying irectly across the way. Can you magine the pang that went through ie boy's heart as he saw that? No me to go back and on each eide ïickly growing wood, filled with a ïeavy growth of briar and under)rush. "Go on.Thunder!" he ehouted. The olt, not half broken in anyway, saw ïat there was au ob3tacle before ïim and his instinct was to jump over t. He gathered his four legs under ïim, he rose in the air like some winged thing, and, as if upbQrne, he went over the tree and landed on the other side without having touched a twigof it. As for Fred, was there any breath left in him? He thought that it did not come back for several minutes after the horse had landed; but he was conscious ot a swelling sense of' magnificent triumph. Three minutes later the horse and rider had entered the oustkirts of Northport. Thunderbolt was running now. Everybody stood and gazed. It was as if some demon horse had gone by. Did he have wings, or was it a mortal steed? In tvvo minutes more they had reached the depot. Fred ivas off his back almost before the animal had stopped and had dashed into the station. "Telegraph!" he gasped out to the clerk, who instanUy put himself in readiness, seeing how urgent was the case. "Telegraph to Charles Roth, wharf of Cunard steamer, East Boston. Clara is ill. Gome back. Have you got it?" The clerk nodded. "Make it go, thou. I'll wait," whispered the boy, and he gave his name, and then Bank back helplese and trembling on a settee. The reaction had come. Something gurgled ;o his lips. And then he had his handkerchief' to hia mouth and saw that the linea was stained with blood. He dimly knew that two or three poople hurried to him. He smelled 'hartshorn and tasted.of brandy, but he was not conscious of thinking of anything but "would Mr. Roth get tr Some questious were asked him, but he did not try to reply. Outside, half a dozen men wer clustered about the dripping and panting horse. How much time passed Fred did not know. He was laid on a lounge, and was willing to lie very quietly. No more blood carne, and he dropped into a kind of doze. He starteá up iustautly, however, when he heard a voice saying, "Here's your answer." He took the paper and read: "Am coming. C. Roth." "Now, I'll go," said the boy, getting on his feet. "Where's Thunderbolt?" "You are not going on the horse,' said a man, speaking with authority I'll take you in my buggy." It was the doctor who had been Bummoned and who carefully questioned Fred as they rode homeward, the colt liaving been put in a atable until he should be called for. Contrary to the doctor's fears, Pred was not ill, although he had to be very quiet for a week or two. When he reached the house and was allowed to teil Clara herself that her father had not sailed aud that he was coming to her, he thought the look on lier face paid hini for hie journey. "I should never have forgiven uiyself il' I had sailed," said Mr. Roth to the boy. "I owe you more thau I can teil. The doctor says Clara's joy at my return has given him a hope that her system may rally from the injury." The gentleman was holding Fred's hands in both his own, as he spoke, and his oyes were glietening. "Thunderbolt won!" said Fred, gayly. "Now I think of it, it really seems as if 1 did not ride a horse, but some sort of imp in the shape of one. Nothing else could have made such time, though." When next Fred went near the colt, it was evident that the animal was glad to see him, and soon ,hc whole household learned that fhunderbolf. would obey Fred better han any one else, and the boy began o have an affection for the beautiful east which had carried him so well. A few weeks later Mr. Roth came ipon Fred, as he was sitting in the arn, looking over some fishingackle? "What do you think I have just loue?1' said the gentleman. Fred ooked up. ''How can I guess?' he asked. '1 have bought Thunderbolt of tlr. Morris.'1 Fred's faCB felL ' You will take iim away, I suppose? ' he said, in a ow voice. "No, I have bought him for a dear riend oí mine." 8omething in Mr. loth'a tone made Fred's cheeks ush ; but he said uothing, and Mr. ioth went on. "I bought him for you." Fred's eyes dauced. He sprang to lis ieet. "l'd rather bave him thau nything in the world!" he cried, exitedly. ïhen he went on, with hesiation. "But isn't he a very expenive present? Perhaps I ought not - " "Let me be the judge of that," inerrupted Mr. Roth. "All you have o do is to take the horse aud be areful of youraelf and him." 1 rf d prang to the side of the colt and lirew his arnis round the shining eek. "Ve'li never be parted in the world!" he cried, eagerly. And mnderboU's briglit eyes looked as if heir owner knew what his young naster said. -

Article

Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Democrat