Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy

  CHAPTER IV.

  TWO BOYS, ONE PIG, AND AN UNFORTUNATE RAILWAY-TRAIN.

  "That's him!"

  Dab was standing by his ponies, in front of a store in the village. Hismother was making some purchases in the store, and Dab was thinking howthe Morris house would look when it was finished; and it was at him theold farmer was pointing in answer to a question which had just beenasked him.

  The questioner was the sharp-eyed boy who had bothered poor Dick Leethat morning, and he was now evidently making a sort of "study" of DabKinzer.

  At that moment, however, a young lady--quite young--came tripping alongthe sidewalk, and was stopped by Dabney, with,--

  "There, Jenny Walters! If I didn't forget my label!"

  "Why, Dabney! Is that you? How you startled me! Forgot your label?"

  "Yes," said Dab; "I'm in another new suit today; and I meant to have alabel on the collar, with my name on it. You'd have known me then."

  "But I know you now," exclaimed Jenny. "Why, I saw you yesterday."

  "Yes, and I told you it was me. Can you read, Jenny?"

  "Why, what a question!"

  "Because, if you can't, it won't do me any good to wear a label."

  "Dabney Kinzer!" exclaimed Jenny, "there's an other thing you ought toget."

  "What's that?"

  "Some good manners," said the little lady snappishly. "Think of yourstopping me in the street to tell me I can't read!"

  "Then you mustn't forget me so quick," said Dab. "If you meet my oldclothes anywhere you must call them Dick Lee. They've had a change ofname."

  "So he's in them, is he? I don't doubt they look better than they everdid before."

  Jenny walked away at once, at the end of that remark, holding her headpretty high, and leaving her old playmate feeling as if he had had alittle the worst of it. That was often the way with people who stoppedto talk with Jenny Walters, and she was not as much of a favorite as sheotherwise might have been.

  Dabney looked after her with his mouth puckered into shape for awhistle; but she had hardly disappeared before he found himselfconfronted by the strange young gentleman.

  "Is your name Dabney Kinzer?"

  "Yes, I believe so."

  "Well, I'm Mr. Ford Foster, from New York."

  "Come over here to buy goods?" suggested Dabney. "Or to get something toeat?"

  Ford Foster was apparently of about Dab's age, but a full head less inheight, so that there was more point in the question than there seemedto be; but he treated it as not worthy of notice, and asked,--

  "Do you know of a house to let anywhere about here?"

  "House to let?" suddenly exclaimed the voice of Mrs. Kinzer, behind him,much to Dab's surprise. "Are you asking about a house? Whom for?"

  Ford Foster had been quite ready to "chaff" Dick Lee, and he would nothave hesitated about trying a like experiment upon Mr. Dabney Kinzer;but he knew enough to speak respectfully to the portly and business-likelady before him now.

  "Yes, madam," he said, with a ceremonious bow: "I wish to report to myfather that I have found an acceptable house in this vicinity."

  "You do!"

  Mrs. Kinzer was reading the young gentleman through and through, as shespoke; but she followed her exclamation with a dozen questions, all ofwhich he answered with a good deal of clearness and intelligence. Shewound up at last, with,--

  "Go right home, then, and tell your father the only good house to let inthis neighborhood will be ready for him next week. I'll show it to himwhen he comes, but he'd better see me at once. Dabney, jump into thebuggy. I'm in a hurry."

  The ponies were in motion, up the street, before Ford Foster quiterecovered from the shock of being told to "go right home."

  "A very remarkable woman," he muttered, as he turned away, "and she didnot tell me a word about the house, after all. I must make some moreinquiries. The boy is actually well dressed, for a place like this."

  "Mother," said Dabney, as they drove along, "you wouldn't let 'em haveHam's house, would you?"

  "No, indeed. But I don't mean to have our own stand empty."

  With that reply a great deal of light broke in upon Dab's mind.

  "That's it, is it?" he said to himself, as he touched up the ponies."Well, there'll be room enough for all of us there, and no mistake. Butwhat'll Ham say?"

  That was a question which he could safely leave to the very responsiblelady beside him; and she found "errands" enough for him, during theremainder of that forenoon, to keep him from worrying his mind about anything else.

  As for Ford Foster, it was not until late on the following day that hecompleted all his "inquiries" to his satisfaction. He took the afternoontrain for the city, almost convinced that, much as he undoubtedly knewbefore he came, he had actually acquired a good deal more knowledgewhich might be of some value.

  Ford was almost the only passenger in the car he had selected. Trainsgoing towards the city were apt to be thinly peopled at that time ofday; but the empty cars had to be taken along all the same, for thebenefit of the crowds who would be coming out later in the afternoon andin the evening. The railway-company would have made more money with fullloads both ways, but it was well they did not have a full load on thatprecise train.

  Ford had turned over the seat in front of him, and stretched himself outwith his feet on it. It was almost like lying down, for a boy of hislength; and it was the very best position he could possibly have takenif he had known what was coming.

  Known what was coming?

  Yes: there was a pig coming.

  That was all; but it was quite enough, considering what that pig wasabout to do. He was going where he chose, just then; and not only had hechosen to walk upon the railroad-track, but he had also made up his mindnot to turn out for that locomotive and its train of cars.

  He saw it, of course, for he was looking straight at it; and theengineer saw him, but it would have been well for the pig if he had beendiscovered a few seconds earlier.

  "What a whistle!" exclaimed Ford Foster at that moment. "It sounds morelike the squeal of an iron pig than any thing else. I"--

  But at that instant there came to him a great jolt and a shock; and Fordfound himself tumbled all in a heap, on the seat where his feet hadbeen. Then came bounce after bounce, and the sound of breaking glass,and then a crash.

  "Off the track," shouted Ford, as he sprang to his feet. "I wouldn'thave missed it for any thing. I do hope, though, there hasn't anybodybeen killed."

  In the tremendous excitement of the moment he could hardly have told howhe got out of that car; but it did not seem ten seconds before he wasstanding beside the engineer and conductor of the train, looking at thebattered engine, as it lay upon its side in a deep ditch. Thebaggage-car, just behind it, was broken all to pieces, but thepassenger-cars did not seem to have suffered very much; and nobody wasbadly hurt, as the engineer and fireman had jumped off in time.

  There had been very little left of the pig; but the conductor and therest seemed much disposed to say unkind things about him, and about hisowner, and about all the other pigs they could think of.

  "This train'll never get in on time," said Ford to the conductor, alittle later. "How'll I get to the city?"

  The railway man was not in the best of humors; and he answered, a littlegroutily, "Well, young man, I don't suppose the city could get alongwithout you over night. The junction with the main road is only twomiles ahead, and if you're a good walker you may catch a train there."

  Some of the other passengers, none of whom were much more than "badlyshaken up," or down, had made the same discovery; and in a few minutesmore there was a long, straggling procession of uncomfortable people,marching by the side of the railway-track, in the hot sun. They werenearly all of them making unkind remarks about pigs, and the facultythey had of not getting out of the way.

  The conductor was right, however; and nearly all of them managed to walkthe two miles to the junction in time to go in on the other train.

  Ford Foster
was among the first to arrive, and he was likely to reachhome in season, in spite of the pig and his outrageous conduct.

  As for his danger, he had hardly thought of that; and he again and againdeclared to himself that he would not have missed so important anadventure for any thing he could think of. It almost sounded once ortwice as if he took to himself no small amount of personal credit, notto say glory, for having been in so remarkable an accident, and come outof it so well.

  Ford's return, when he should make it, was to take him to a great,pompous, stylish, crowded "up-town boarding-house," in one of thefashionable streets of the great city. There was no wonder at all thatwise people should wish to get out of such a place in such hot weather.Still it was the sort of home Ford Foster had been acquainted with allhis life; and it was partly owing to that, that he had become soprematurely "knowing."

  He knew too much, in fact, and was only too well aware of it. He hadfilled his head with an unlimited stock of boarding-house information,as well as with a firm persuasion that there was little more to behad,--unless, indeed, it might be scraps of such outside knowledge as hehad now been picking up over on Long Island.

  In one of the large "parlor-chambers" of the boarding-house, at abouteight o'clock that evening, a middle-aged gentleman and lady, with afair, sweet-faced girl of about nineteen, were sitting near an openwindow, very much as if they were waiting for somebody. Such a kind,motherly lady! She was one of those whom no one can help liking, afterseeing her smile once, or hearing her speak.

  Ford Foster himself could not have put in words what he thought abouthis mother. And yet he had no difficulty whatever in expressing hisrespect for his father, or his unbounded admiration for his prettysister Annie.

  "O husband!" exclaimed Mrs. Foster, "are you sure none of them wereinjured?"

  "So the telegraphic report said; not a bone broken of anybody, but thepig that got in the way."

  "How I wish he would come!" groaned Annie. "Have you any idea, father,how Ford could get to the city?"

  "Not clearly, my dear," said her father; "but you can trust Ford not tomiss any opportunity. He's just the boy to look out for himself in anemergency."

  Ford Foster's father took very strongly after the son in whose presenceof mind and ability he expressed so much confidence. He had just such asquare, active, bustling sort of body, several sizes larger; with justsuch keen, penetrating, greenish-gray eyes. Anybody would have pickedhim out at a glance for a lawyer, and a good one.

  That was exactly what he was; and, if anybody had become acquainted witheither son or father, there would have been no difficulty afterward inidentifying the other.

  It required a good deal more than the telegraphic report of theaccident, or even her husband's assurances, to relieve the motherlyanxiety of good Mrs. Foster, or even to drive away the shadows from theface of Annie.

  No doubt, if Ford himself had known the state of affairs in his familycircle, they would have been relieved earlier; for, even while they weretalking about him, he had reached the end of his adventures, and wasalready in the house. It had not so much as occurred to him that hismother would hear of the disaster to the pig and the railway-train untilhe himself should tell her; and so he had made sure of his supper downstairs before reporting his arrival. He might not have done it perhaps;but he had entered the house by the lower way, through the area door,and that of the dining-room had stood temptingly open, with some veryeatable things spread out upon the table.

  That had been too much for Ford, after his car-ride, and his smash-up,and his long walk.

  Now, at last, up he came, three stairs at a time, brimful of new andwonderful experiences, to be more than a little astonished by the mannerand enthusiasm of his welcome.

  "Why, mother," he exclaimed, when he got a chance for a word, "you andAnnie couldn't have said much more if I'd been the pig himself!"

  "The pig!" said Annie.

  "Yes, the pig that stopped us. He and the engine won't go home to theirfamilies to-night."

  "Don't make fun of it, Ford," said his mother gently. "It's too seriousa matter."

  Just then his father broke in, almost impatiently, with,--

  "Well, Ford, my boy, have you done your errand? or shall I have to seeabout it myself? You've been gone two days."

  "Thirty-seven hours and a half, father," replied Ford, taking out hiswatch. "I've kept an exact account of my expenses. We've saved the costof advertising."

  "And spent it on railroading," said his father, with a laugh.

  "But, Ford," asked Annie, "did you find a house?--a good one?"

  "Yes," added Mrs. Foster: "now I'm sure you're safe, I do want to hearabout the house."

  "It's all right, mother," said Ford confidently. "The very house youtold me to hunt for. Neither too large nor too small. I've only seen theoutside of it, but every thing about it is in apple-pie order."

  There were plenty of questions to answer now, but

  Ford was every way equal to the occasion. Some of his answers might havemade Mrs. Kinzer herself open her eyes, for the material for them hadbeen obtained from her own neighbors.

  Ford's report, in fact, compelled his father to look at him with anexpression of face which very plainly meant,--

  "That's my boy. He resembles me. I was just like him, at his age. He'llbe just like me, at mine."

  There was excellent reason, beyond question, to approve of the manner inwhich the young gentleman had performed his errand in the country; andMr. Foster promptly decided to go over in a day or two, and see whatsort of an arrangement could be made with Mrs. Kinzer.