CHAPTER X CORDIE'S STRANGE RIDE
Twice a day, after Cordie had discovered him, the police horse, Dick, hada lump of sugar--one in the morning and another at noon. And MountedOfficer Patrick O'Hara, very young, quite handsome and somewhat dashing,received a smile with each lump of sugar. It would have been hard to tellwhich enjoyed his portion the most, Dick or Patrick O'Hara.
Apparently nothing could have pleased Cordie more than this discovery ofan old friend. Yes, there was one other thing that would have pleased hermuch more. She found herself longing for it more and more. Every time shesaw the horse she secretly yearned for this privilege.
And then, quite surprisingly, the opportunity came. It was noon. Havingcome out from the store to give Dick his daily portion, she was surprisedto find him standing alone, head down, and patiently waiting. A glancedown the street told her there had been an auto collision in the middleof the block; not a serious one probably, as the cars did not seem badlysmashed, but of course Patrick O'Hara had gone over there to take downthe numbers. Since traffic had been jammed, he had dismounted and walked.
"Wha--what a chance," Cordie breathed, her heart skipping a beat. "Do Idare?"
She looked up at the splendid saddle with its broad circle of brass andother trappings. She studied Dick's smooth, sleek sides.
"I know I shouldn't," she whispered, "but I do so want to. Dick, do yousuppose he'd care?"
The temptation was growing stronger. Glancing down the street, she caughta glimpse of Patrick O'Hara's cap above the crowd. His back was turned.The temptation was no longer to be resisted. With a touch and a spring,light as air, Cordie leaped into the saddle.
"Just for old times," she whispered.
She had meant to hover there for an instant, then to leap right downagain. But alas for the best laid plans. Old Dick had apparentlyremembered things about the past which she had quite forgotten, and witha wild snort his head went up, his four feet came together, and with aleap that completely cleared him from the autos that blocked his way, hewent tearing down the street.
For a second the girl's head was in a whirl. So unexpected was this maddash that she was all but thrown from the saddle. Apparently anexperienced rider, she regained her balance, clung to the pommel of thesaddle for an instant, then gripping the reins, she screamed:
"Whoa, Dick! Whoa! Whoa!"
Had her scream been "Go Dick! Go!" it would not have had a differenteffect. He simply redoubled his speed.
Then it was that the State Street throng of shoppers viewed a performancethat was not on the program and one they would not soon forget--ahatless, coatless girl, hair flying, cheeks aflame, dashing madly downthe street astride a sturdy police horse.
Some laughed, some cheered, others gasped in astonishment and fright. Acorner policeman leaped for the reins, but missed. Panic spread throughthe cross streets. It was a bad morning for jay-walkers. Having failed tosee the on-coming charger, they would leap boldly before a slow-movingauto to give one startled look upward, then to register the blankestsurprise and shy suddenly backward. Had it not been such a seriousbusiness, Cordie would have laughed at the expressions on their faces;but this was no laughing matter. To all appearances she had stolen apoliceman's horse, and that in broad daylight.
Suddenly a second police horse swung out into the street.
"Stop! Stop! I arrest you!" shouted the rider.
"That's easy said," the girl murmured in an agony of fear lest Dickshould trample someone under his feet. "It's easy said. I wish youwould."
Evidently Dick did not agree with these sentiments, for the instant hesensed this rival his head went higher, a great snort escaped hisnostrils and he was away with a fresh burst of speed which left thesurprised officer three lengths behind.
"Oh! Oh! What shall I do!" groaned the girl.
The more she tugged at the reins the faster flew Dick's splendid limbs.He had the bit between his teeth.
Suddenly, as if aggravated by the crowds that threatened to block hisway, he whirled to a side street and went dashing toward the Boulevard.
"The Boulevard! Oh, the Boulevard! We will be killed!"
Before them lay the Boulevard where autos, thick as bees in clover, racedforward at twenty miles an hour. What chance could there be of escape?
Trust a horse. While pedestrians stared and screamed in terror, whilepolicemen vainly blew whistles and auto drivers set brakes screaming,Dick, without slackening his pace, raced ahead of a yellow limousine,grazed a black sedan, sent a flivver to the curb, and with onemagnificent leap cleared the sidewalk and the low chain at its edge,landing squarely upon the soft, yielding turf of the park.
"Ah, that's better," he all but seemed to say. Then, heading south alongthe narrow park that extended straight away for a mile, he continued hismad career.
Cordie, risking one backward look, gasped in consternation and fear.
"Dick, Dick, you old villain! You've got me in for life! Never, neveragain!"
Three policemen, each mounted on his steed, came dashing after her in madpursuit.
A straight, broad course lay before them; a pretty enough course to temptanyone. Seeming to gain new strength from the very touch of it, Dickgripped his bit and fairly flew.
And Cordie, in spite of her predicament, regardless of impending arrest,was actually getting a thrill out of it. For one thing, there were now nopedestrians to be run down. The park was deserted. For another thing,ahead of Dick lay a clear stretch of turf which she hoped would satisfyhis lust for speed.
Finding herself in a more cheerful frame of mind, Cordie took to studyingher pursuers. That they were of different ages she guessed more by theway they rode than by a clear view of their faces; Dick had left them toofar behind for that. The foremost rider was a man of thirty-five or so, astern minion of the law, and he was plainly angry. It had been he who hadinformed her on State Street that she was arrested. He had an unusuallylong nose--she remembered that. He rode a poor mount very badly indeed.The punishment he was getting, as he jounced up and down in the saddle,he would doubtless attempt to pass on to her and to Dick. She ardentlywished that he might never catch up, but realized at the same time thatit could not well be avoided. The race must come to a close.
The other policemen were different. One was heavy and well past middleage; the other young, perhaps no older than Patrick O'Hara. They rodewith the easy grace of an aged and a young cowboy. She had seen some likethat in the movies not so long ago. She fancied she saw a smile on theyounger man's face. Perhaps he was enjoying the race. She sincerely hopedhe might be, and the older man, too. As for the one of the long nose--nota chance.
All things have an end. Dick's race did. Having come close to an ironfence, beyond which towered a brick structure, he appeared to assume thathe had reached the goal. Dropping to a slow trot, he circled gracefullyto the right, and as he came to a standstill he threw his head high asmuch as to say:
"We won, didn't we; and by a handsome margin!"
"Yes, you old goose," the girl breathed. "And now, instead of a blueribbon for you and a purse for me, we get an invite to some dirty oldpolice court."
There was no time for further thought. The foremost policeman, he of thelong nose, rode up and snatching at the reins, snarled:
"Suppose you call that smart, you--you flapper!"
Staring angrily at the girl, he gave Dick's rein such a yank as threw themagnificent horse on his haunches.
Instantly Cordie's eyes flashed fire. They might take her to jail andwelcome; but abuse Dick he might not!
Dick, however, proved quite equal to caring for himself. With a snort heleaped to one side, and jerking his rein from the policeman's grasp, wentdashing away.
So sudden was this turn that Cordie, caught unawares, was thrown crashingto the ground. The officer wheeled and rode after the horse.
It was the older man, the one with gray about his temples, who, quicklydismounting, helped the girl to her feet.
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"Are you hurt?" he asked in a tone that had a fatherly touch in it.
That did the trick for Cordie. All her anger was gone. She was notinjured, but tears came trickling out from beneath her eyelids as shehalf sobbed:
"I--I'm sorry. Truly I am. I didn't, didn't mean to. Truly--truly Ididn't! I--I used to ride him in races, on--on the farm. And Ithought--thought it would be fun to just sit--sit a minute in his saddle.I tried it and I guess--guess he thought it was to be another race.Anyway, he--he bolted with me and I couldn't stop him. Truly, truly Icouldn't!"
"That's all right, Miss," said the elderly one, putting a fatherly handon her shoulder. "It may not be so bad, after all."
The younger policeman had also dismounted and now stood smiling at themand appearing to wish he might take the place of his older friend.
"That is Pat O'Hara's horse," he said at last. "He's the smartest mounton the force. And I'll tell you one thing, if we wait for Hogan to catchhim we'll be here until to-morrow morning."
Hogan, the irate policeman, was certainly having his troubles catchingDick. With the skill and mischief of a trained performer, Dick wasplaying tag with him in a masterly fashion. He would stand with head downas if asleep until his pursuer was all but upon him; then with a snort hewould dash away. No amount of coaxing, cajoling or cursing could bringhim any nearer to capture.
This little play went on for several minutes. Then, at a time when Dickhad circled quite close to her, Cordie suddenly put two fingers to herlips and let out a shrill whistle. Instantly the splendid horse prickedup his ears and came trotting toward her.
"Good old Dick," she whispered, patting him on the neck and not so muchas putting out a hand for his rein.
"Well I'll be--" mumbled the younger policeman.
"There's lots like 'em, both horses and girls," the old man smiled, "andI'll swear there's not more bad in the girl than the horse."
"No, now Hogan," he held up a warning hand to the one who came riding up."You leave this to me. Where's O'Hara's stand?"
"State and Madison," volunteered the younger man.
"Good, we're off. You men can ride back to your posts. I'll tend to thismatter myself."
The younger man grinned. Hogan growled; then they rode away.
"You better mount and ride back," suggested the older man to Cordie.
Seeing her hesitate, he reached for her rein, "I'll steady him a bit, buthe's had his race. Guess he'll be satisfied. But," he said suddenly,"you're not dressed for this. You must be half frozen."
Unstrapping a great coat from Patrick O'Hara's saddle, he helped her intoit and together they rode away.
And so it happened that on this day, only a few days before Christmas,the throngs along State Street viewed a second unusual sight. Thoughquite different from the first, it was no less mystifying. Who ever heardof a gray haired policeman and a bobbed haired girl in a policeman'sgreat coat, riding police horses and parading up the city's mostcongested street in broad daylight?
"What a fool I've been," the girl whispered to herself as she hid herface from a camera. "It will all be in the papers. And then what?"
They found young Patrick O'Hara nervously pacing his beat on foot. Hisface lit up with a broad grin as he saw them approaching.
"I sort of figured," he drawled, "that whoever took Dick would bring himback. Can't anybody do a good job of riding him except me."
"If you think that," exclaimed Tim Reilly, the elderly policeman, "youjust take any horse on the force, give this girl and Dick a three-lengthstart, and see if you'd catch 'em. You would--not! Not in a thousandmoons!"
Patrick O'Hara grinned as he helped the girl down.
"Now you beat it," said Tim in as stern a voice as he could command. "Isuspect you work around here somewhere close. You've overdone your noonhour, and this the rush season. You'll be in for it now."
Cordie threw him one uncertain glance to discover whether or not he wasin earnest. The next moment she went racing across the street.