Edith Dunton - Betty Wales, Freshman

“Well, he’s drunk enough now,” said Roberta, “and you’ll have to put the extra bits in again–that is, if you can. He’d trail his nose on the ground if he wasn’t checked.”

The “beastie” stood submissively while the bits were replaced and the check fastened. Then he chewed a handful of clover with avidity and went on again as dejectedly as ever. Presently they reached a long, level stretch of road and stopped in the shade of a big pine-tree for a consultation.

“Do you suppose this is the top?” asked Rachel.

Just then a merry tally-ho party of freshmen, tooting horns and singing, drew up beside them. “Is this the top of the notch?” asked Betty, waving her hand to some girls she knew.

“No, it’s three miles further on,” they called back. “Hurrah for 190-!”

“Well?” said Betty, who felt in no mood for cheering.

“Let’s go back to that pretty grove two hills down and tie this apology for a horse to the fence and spend the rest of the day there,” suggested Katherine.

Everybody agreed to this, and Roberta backed her steed round with a flourish.

“Now let’s each have a gingersnap before we start down,” she said. So the box was opened and passed. Roberta gathered the reins in one hand, clucked to the horse, and put her gingersnap into her mouth for the first bite. But she never got it, for without the slightest provocation the “beastie” gave a sudden spring forward, flopped his long tail over the reins, and started at a gallop down the road. Betty clung to the dashboard with one hand and tried to pluck off the obstructing tail with the other. Roberta, with the gingersnap still in her mouth, tugged desperately at the lines, and the back seat yelled “Whoa!” lustily, until Betty, having rearranged the tail and regained her seat, advised them to help pull instead. They had long since left the little grove behind, had dashed past half a dozen carriages, and were down on the level road near the ferry, when the “beastie” stopped as suddenly as he had started. Roberta deliberately removed the gingersnap from her mouth, handed the reins to Betty to avoid further interruption, and began to eat, while the rest of the party indulged in unseemly laughter at her expense.

“We’ve found out what that extra bit was for,” said Rachel when the mirth had subsided, “and we can advise the liveryman that it doesn’t work. But what are we going to do now?”

“Murder the liveryman,” suggested Katherine.

“But the horse is sure-footed; he didn’t lie,” objected Alice so seriously that everybody burst out laughing again.

“He told the truth, but not the whole truth,” said Rachel. “Next time we’ll ask how many bits the horse has to wear and how it takes to hills. Now what can we do?”

“We can’t go back to the woods, that’s sure,” said Katherine. “And it’s too hot to stay down here. Let’s go home and get rid of this sure-footed incubus, and then we can decide what to do next.”

The ferryman greeted them cheerfully. “Back so soon?” he said. “Had your dinner?”

“Of course not,” replied Katherine severely. “It’s only twelve o’clock. We’re just out for a morning drive. Do you remember saying that this horse was tired? Well, he brought us down the hills at about a mile a minute.”

“Is that so!” declared the ferryman with a chuckle. “Scairt, were you? Why didn’t you git them young Winsted fellers, that jest started up, to rescue yer? Might a ben quite a story.”

“We didn’t need rescuing, thank you,” said Katherine. “Did you see any men?” she whispered to Betty.

Betty nodded. “Four, driving a span. They were awfully amused. Miss King was in another of the carriages,” she added sadly. Then she caught sight of Roberta and began to laugh again. “You were so funny with that cookie in your mouth,” she said. “Were you dreadfully frightened?”

“No,” said Roberta, with a guilty blush. “I always expect something to happen. Horses are such uncertain creatures.”

They drove back through the meadows at a moderate pace, deposited the horse and a certified opinion of him with an apologetic liveryman, and carried their lunch down to Paradise. “For it’s as pretty as any place and near, and we’re all hungry,” Alice said.

Paradise was deserted, for the girls had preferred to range further afield on Mountain Day. So the five freshmen chose two boats, rowed up stream without misadventure, spread out their luncheon on a grassy knoll, and ate, talked, and read till dinner time. As they crossed the campus, they met parties of dusty, disheveled pedestrians, laden with purple asters and autumn branches. A barge stopped at the gateway to deposit the campus contingent of the sophomore decorating committee, and in front of the various dwelling-houses empty buckboards, surreys and express wagons, waiting to be called for, showed that the holiday was over.

“I don’t think our first Mountain Day has been so bad after all, in spite of that dreadful horse,” said Rachel.

“So much pleasant variety about it,” added Katherine.

“Let’s not tell about the runaway,” said Alice who hated to be teased.

“But Miss King saw us,” expostulated Betty, “and you can trust Mary Brooks to know all about it.”

When Mary, who was late in dressing, entered the dining-room, she gave a theatrical cry of joy. “I’m so glad you’re all safe,” she said. “And how about that cookie, Roberta?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s gone. They’re all gone,” said Roberta coolly. “Now you might as well tell us how you knew.”

“Knew!” repeated Mary scornfully. “The whole college knows by this time. We were lunching on the notch road, near the top, when four Winsted men came up, and asked if they might join us. They knew most of us. So we said yes, if they’d brought any candy, and they told us a strange story about five girls–very young girls, they said,” interpolated Mary emphatically, “that they’d seen dashing down the notch. One was trying to eat a cookie, and another was pulling the horse’s tail, and the rest were screaming at the top of their lungs, so naturally the horse was frightened to death. Pretty soon three carriage loads of juniors came along and they confirmed the awful news and gave us the names of the victims, and you can imagine how I felt. The men want to meet you, but I told them they couldn’t because of course you’d be drowned in the river.”

“I hope you’ll relieve their minds the next time they come to see you,” said Katherine. “Are they the youths who monopolize our piazza every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon?”

“Two of them help occasionally.”

Katherine winked meaningly at the rest of the Mountain Day party. “We’ll be there,” she said, “though it goes against my conscience to receive calls from such untruthful young gentlemen.”

The next Saturday afternoon Betty and Katherine established themselves ostentatiously on the front piazza to await the arrival of Mary’s callers, Rachel had gone to play basket-ball, and Roberta had refused to conspire against Mary’s peace of mind, particularly since the plot might involve having to talk to a man. Promptly at three o’clock two gentlemen arrived.

“Miss Brooks is that sorry, but she had to go out,” announced the maid in tones plainly audible to the two eavesdroppers. “Would you please to come back at four?”

Katherine and Betty exchanged disappointed glances. “Checked again. She’s too much for us,” murmured Katherine. “Shall we wait?”

“And is Miss Wales in–Miss Betty Wales?” pursued the spokesman, after a slight pause.

The maid looked severely at the occupants of the piazza. “Yes, sor, you can see that yoursilf,” she said and abruptly withdrew.