Part 36 (2/2)
”Oh, dear me! So he can,” murmured Janice.
”He's got me there,” grumbled young Bowman. ”I never thought Lem Parraday any too sharp before; but he's learned a lot from Joe Bodley.
That young fellow is about as shrewd and foxy as they make 'em.”
”Yet they say he did not sell Hopewell's violin at a profit, as he expected to,” Janice observed.
”That's right, too. And it's queer,” the engineer said. ”I've seen that black-haired, foxy-looking chap around town more than once since Joe bought the fiddle. Hullo! what's the matter with Dexter?”
The engineer had got into step at once with Janice, and they had by this time walked down High Street to the steamboat dock. The freight-house door was open and Walky Dexter had loaded his wagon and was ready to drive up town; but Josephus was headed down the dock.
The expressman was climbing unsteadily to his seat, and in reply to something said by the freight agent, he shouted:
”Thas all right! thas all right! I kin turn Josephus 'round on this dock. Jefers-pelters! he could _back_ clean up town with _this_ load, I sh'd hope!”
Janice had said nothing in reply to Frank Bowman's last query; but the latter added, under his breath: ”Goodness! Walky is pretty well screwed-up, isn't he? I just saw him at the hotel taking what he calls a 'snifter.'”
”Poor Walky!” sighed Janice.
”Poor Josephus, _I_ should say,” rejoined Frank quickly.
The expressman was turning the old horse on the empty dock. There was plenty of room for this manoeuver; but Walky Dexter's eyesight was not what it should be. Or, perhaps he was less patient than usual with Josephus.
”Git around there, Josephus!” the expressman shouted. ”Back! Back! I tell ye! Consarn yer hide!”
He yanked on the bit and Josephus' heavy hoofs clattered on the resounding planks. The wagon was heavily laden; and when it began to run backward, with Walky jerking on the reins, it could not easily be stopped.
A rotten length of ”string-piece” had been removed from one edge of the dock, and a new timber had not yet replaced it. As bad fortune would have it, Walky backed his wagon directly into this opening.
”Hold on there! Where ye goin' to--ye crazy ol' critter?” bawled the freight agent.
”Hul-_lo_! Jefers-pelters!” gasped the suddenly awakened Walky, casting an affrighted glance over his shoulder. ”I'm a-backin' over the dump, ain't I? Gid-_ap_, Josephus!”
But when once Josephus made up his slow mind to back, he did it thoroughly. He, too, expected to feel the rear wheels of the heavy farm wagon b.u.mp against the string-piece.
”Gid-_ap_, Josephus!” yelled Walky again, and rose up to smite the old horse with the ends of the reins. He had no whip--nor would one have helped matters, perhaps, at this juncture.
The rear wheels went over the edge of the dock. The lake was high, being swelled by the Spring floods. ”Plump!” the back of the wagon plunged into the water, and, the bulk of the load being over the rear axle, the forward end shot up off the front truck.
Wagon body and freight sunk into the lake. Walky, as though shot from a catapult, described a parabola over his horse's head and landed with a crash on all fours directly under Josephus' nose.
Never was the old horse known to make an unnecessary motion. But the sudden flight and unexpected landing on the dock of his driver, quite excited Josephus.
With a snort he scrambled backward, the front wheels went over the edge of the dock and dragged Josephus with them. Harnessed as he was, and still attached to the shafts, the old horse went into the lake with a great splash.
”Hey! Whoa! Whoa, Josephus! Jefers-pelters! ain't this a purty to-do?” roared Walky, recovering his footing with more speed than grace.
”Naow see that ol' critter! What's he think he's doin'--takin' a swimmin' lesson?”
For Josephus, with one mighty plunge, broke free from the shafts. He struck out for the sh.o.r.e and reached shallow water almost immediately.
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