"How long may he stay there without being killed? Until maybe somebody can be found to take him."

"He may stay there one week. But now we must move along. Fasten the horse's halter to the back of my wagon, men, and I'll see to it that he is comfortable to-night anyway."

The halter rope was tied, and the strange procession started slowly back toward Riveredge.

CHAPTER IV

Baltie is Rescued

"How old are you, little la.s.sie?" asked Hadyn Stuyvesant, looking down upon the little figure beside him, his fine eyes alive with interest and the smile which none could resist lighting his face, and displaying his white even teeth.

"I'm just a little over ten," answered Jean, looking up and answering his smile with one equally frank and trustful, for little Jean Carruth did not understand the meaning of embarra.s.sment.

"Are you Mrs. Bernard Carruth's little daughter? I knew her nephew well when at college, although I've been away from Riveredge so long that I've lost track of her and her family."

"Yes, she is my mother. Mr. Bernard Carruth was my father," and a little choke came into Jean's voice, for, although not yet eight years of age when her father pa.s.sed out of her life, Jean's memory of him was a very tender one, and she sorely missed the kind, cheery, sympathetic companionship he had given his children. Hadyn Stuyvesant was quick to note the catch in the little girl's voice, and the tears which welled up to her eyes, and a strong arm was placed about her waist to draw her a little closer to his side, as, changing the subject, he said very tenderly:

"You have had an exciting hour, little one. Sit close beside me and don't try to talk; just rest, and let _me_ do the talking. We must go slowly on Baltie's account; the poor old horse is badly knocked about and stiffened up. Suppose we go right to Mr. Pringle's livery stable and ask him to take care of him a few days any way. Don't you think that would be a good plan?"

"But who will _pay_ for him? Don't you have to pay board for horses just like people pay their board?" broke in Jean anxiously.

Hadyn Stuyvesant smiled at the practical little being his arm still so comfortingly encircled.

"I guess the Society can stand the expense," he answered.

"Has it got _lots_ of money to do such things with?" asked Jean, bound to get at the full facts.

"I'm afraid it hasn't got 'lots of money'--I wish it had,--but I think it can pay a week's board for old Baltie in consideration of what you have done for him. It will make you happier to know he will be comfortable for a little while any way, won't it?"

"Oh, yes! yes! And, and--perhaps _I_ could pay the next week's if we didn't find somebody the first week. I've got 'most five dollars in my Christmas bank. I've been saving ever since last January; I always begin to put in something on New Year's day, if it's only five cents, and then I never, never take any out 'till it's time to buy our next Christmas presents. And I really _have_ got 'most five dollars, and would _that_ be enough for another week?" and the bonny little face was raised eagerly to her companion's. Hadyn Stuyvesant then and there lost his heart to the little creature at his side. It is given to very few "grown-ups" to slip out of their own adult years and by some magical power pick up the years of their childhood once more, with all the experiences and view-points of that childhood, but Hadyn Stuyvesant was one of those few. He felt all the eagerness of Jean's words and his answer held all the confidence and enthusiasm of _her_ ten years rather than his own twenty-three.

"Fully enough. But we will hope that a home may be found for Baltie before the first week has come to an end. And here we are at Mr.

Pringle's. Raulsbury I shall have to ask you to get out here," added Mr. Stuyvesant, as he, himself, sprang from the depot wagon to the sidewalk.

Raulsbury made no reply but stepped to the sidewalk, where, at a slight signal from Hadyn Stuyvesant, an officer of the Society who had his office in the livery stable came forward and motioned to Raulsbury to follow him. As they disappeared within the stable, Mr. Stuyvesant said to the proprietor:

"Pringle, I've got a boarder for you. Don't know just how long he will stay, but remember, nothing is too good for him while he does, for he is this little girl's protege, and I hold myself responsible for him."

"All right, Mr. Stuyvesant. All right, sir. He shall have the best the stable affords. Come on, old stager; you look as if you wanted a curry-comb and a feed pretty bad," said Pringle, as he untied Baltie's halter. With all the gentleness of the blue-blooded old fellow he was, Baltie raised his mud-splashed head, sniffed at Mr. Pringle's coat and nickered softly, as though acknowledging his proffered hospitality.

The man stroked the muddy neck encouragingly, as he said:

"He don't look much as he did eighteen years ago, does he, Mr.

Stuyvesant?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember how he looked eighteen years ago, Pringle; there wasn't much of me to remember _with_ about that time.

But I remember how he looked _eight_ years ago, before I went to Europe, and the contrast is enough to stir me up considerable. It's about time such conditions were made impossible, and I'm going to see what I can do to start a move in that direction," concluded Mr.

Stuyvesant, with an ominous nod toward the stable door, through which Raulsbury had disappeared.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir. We have had too much of this sort of thing in Riveredge for the past few years. I've been saying the Society needed a _live_ president and I'm glad it's got one at last."

"Well, look out for old Baltie, and now I must take my little fellow-worker home," said Mr. Stuyvesant.

"Oh, may I give him just _one_ pat before we go?" begged Jean, looking from Baltie to Mr. Stuyvesant.

"Lead him up beside us, Pringle," ordered Mr. Stuyvesant smiling his consent to Jean.

"Good-bye Baltie, dear. Good-bye. I won't forget you for a single minute; no, not for one," said the little girl earnestly, hugging the muddy old head and implanting a kiss upon the ear nearest her.

"Baltie you are to be envied, old fellow," said Hadyn Stuyvesant, laughing softly, and nodding significantly to Pringle. "She was his first friend in his misery. I'll tell you about it later, but I must be off now or her family will have me up for a kidnapper. I'll be back in about an hour."

Ten minutes' swift bowling along behind Hadyn Stuyvesant's beautiful "Comet" brought them to the Carruth home. Dusk was already beginning to fall as the short autumn day drew to its end, and Mrs.

Carruth,--mother above all other things--stood at the window watching for this youngest daughter, regarding whom she never felt quite at ease when that young lady was out of her sight. When she saw a carriage turning in at her driveway and that same daughter perched upon the front seat beside a total stranger she began to believe that there had been some foundation for the misgivings which had made her so restless for the past hour. Opening the door she stepped out upon the piazza to meet the runaway, and was greeted with:

"Oh mother, mother, I've had such an exciting experience! I started to see Amy Fletcher, but before I got there I found him in the ditch and lame and muddy and dirty, and I went up to tell Jabe he _must_ go get him out and then I got awful angry and banged him with my umbrella, and then I cried and _he_ found me," with a nod toward her companion, "and he got him out of the ditch and gave Jabe _such_ a scolding and took him to Mr. Pringle's and he's going to curry-comb him and get the mud all off of him and take care of him a week any way, and two weeks if I've got enough money in my bank and--and--"

"Mercy! mercy! mercy!" cried Mrs. Carruth, breaking into a laugh and raising both hands as though to shield her head from the avalanche of words descending upon it. Hadyn Stuyvesant strove manfully to keep his countenance lest he wound the feelings of his little companion, but the situation was too much for him and his genial laugh echoed Mrs.

Carruth's as he sprang from the depot wagon and raising his arms toward the surprised child said:

"Let me lift you out little maid, and then I think perhaps you can give your mother a clearer idea as to whether it is Jabe Raulsbury, or old Baltie which is covered with mud and about to be curry-combed.

Mrs. Carruth, let me introduce myself as Hadyn Stuyvesant. I knew your nephew when I was at college, and on the strength of my friendship for him, must beg you to pardon this intrusion. I came upon your little daughter not long since playing the part of the Good Samaritan to Raulsbury's poor old horse. She had tackled a job just a little too big for her, so I volunteered to lend a hand, and together we made it go."

As he spoke Hadyn Stuyvesant removed his hat and ascended the piazza steps with hand outstretched to the sweet-faced woman who stood at the top. She took the extended hand, her face lighting with the winning smile which carried sunshine to all who knew her, and in the present instance fell with wonderful warmth upon the man before her, for barely a year had pa.s.sed since his mother had been laid away in a beautiful cemetery in Switzerland, and the tie between that mother and son had been a singularly tender one.

"I have often heard my nephew speak of you, Mr. Stuyvesant, and can not think of you as a stranger. I regret that we have not met before, but I understand you have lived abroad for several years. I am indebted to you for bringing Jean safely home, but quite at a loss to understand what has happened. Please come in and tell me. Will your horse stand?"

"He will stand as long as I wish him to. But I fear I shall intrude upon you?" and a questioning tone came into his voice.

"How could it be an intrusion under the circ.u.mstances? Come."

"In a moment, then. I must throw the blanket over Comet," and running down the steps he took the blanket from the seat and quickly buckled it upon the horse which meanwhile nosed him and nickered.

"Yes; it's all right, old man. Just you _stand_ till I want you," said his master, giving the pretty head an affectionate pat which the horse acknowledged by shaking it up and down two or three times. Hadyn Stuyvesant then mounted the steps once more and followed Mrs. Carruth and Jean into the house, across the broad hall into the cheerful living-room where logs blazed upon the andirons in the fire-place, and Constance was just lighting a large reading lamp which stood upon a table in the center of the room.

"Constance, dear, this is Mr. Stuyvesant whom your cousin knew at Princeton. My daughter, Constance, Mr. Stuyvesant. And this is my eldest daughter, Eleanor," she added as Eleanor entered the room.

Constance set the lamp shade upon its rest and advanced toward their guest with hand extended and a smile which was the perfect reflection of her mother's. Eleanor's greeting although graceful and dignified lacked her sister's cordiality.

"Now," added Mrs. Carruth, "let us be seated and learn more definitely of Jean's escapade."

"But it _wasn't_ an escapade _this_ time, mother. It was just an unhelpable experience, _wasn't_ it, Mr. Stuyvesant?" broke in Jean, walking over to Hadyn Stuyvesant's side and placing her hand confidingly upon his shoulder, as she peered into his kind eyes for his corroboration of this a.s.sertion.

"_Entirely_ 'unhelpable,'" was the positive a.s.surance as he put his arm about her and drew her upon his knee. "Suppose you let me explain it, and then your mother and sisters will understand the situation fully," and in as few words as possible he gave an account of the happenings of the past two hours, Jean now and again prompting him when he went a trifle astray regarding the incidents which occurred prior to his appearance upon the scene, and making a clean breast of her attack upon Jabe Raulsbury. When _that_ point in the narration was reached Mrs. Carruth let her hands drop resignedly into her lap; Constance laughed outright, and Eleanor cried: "Oh, Mr. Stuyvesant, what _must_ you think of Jean's training?"

Jean's eyes were fixed upon his as though in his reply rested the verdict, and her fingers were clasped and unclasped nervously. It had been more than two years since a man had set judgment upon her. Hadyn Stuyvesant looked keenly into the big eyes looking so bravely and frankly into his own, drew the little girl close to him, rested his lips for a moment upon the silky curls and said:

"Sometimes we can hardly be held accountable for what we do; especially when our sense of justice is sorely taxed. I believe I should have done the same. But since you love horses so dearly, won't you run and give Comet a lump of sugar? He has not had one to-day and will feel slighted unless he gets it. Hold it upon the palm of your hand and he will take it as gently as a kitten. Tell him I am coming right away," and placing Jean upon the floor, he gave an encouraging pat upon the brown curls.