Frank Merriwell's Champions Part 29

The boys of the Yale Combine remained with their friends for two days more. During that time Frank saw Elsie twice, and when the pair parted it was with a promise to write every week or oftener.

The combine got a rousing cheer on leaving Blue Cove, the celebration being fully equal to that partic.i.p.ated in at Lake Lily.

"Virginia is all right," said Frank to Jack. "I don't wonder that you are proud of your mother State."

The tour now led northward, toward New York, and two days later found the boys in the southeastern portion of Pennsylvania.

Here the roads were found to be fairly good, and they took again to their bicycles, but taking their time, for Bruce and Hans absolutely refused to hurry.

"The boat race nearly killed me," growled the big fellow. "Give me a chance to recover."

As for Hans, he wanted to stop and eat five or six times in every twenty-four hours.

"Dot draining vos make me empty by mine heels up," he declared. "You could eat me mine own head off alretty, ain't it?"

On one occasion Frank felt like spurting ahead and did so. He was quickly joined by Barney, and the two kept it up until they were well out of sight of the rest of the crowd.

"Sure an' this tickles me to death," observed Barney. "Me wheel acts loike grased lightning, bedad!"

"I love a spurt myself," replied Frank. "Especially when my wheel is just in proper trim."

They had pa.s.sed over a slight rise and were now on a down grade where coasting became a double pleasure. There was a wood on either side of the road, with great trees interlocking their branches high overhead.

"Listen!" cried Frank, presently. "What is that?"

"Sure an' somebody is gettin' a drubbin'," replied Barney. "Come on, we'll see who it is!"

"Confound the beast!" came the cry from a curve ahead. "I will teach the beast how to mind!"

And then followed more blows, mingled with a low cry in a female voice.

Rounding the curve, Frank and Barney saw a man and a girl who were mounted on handsome horses. The man was belaboring with his riding whip the horse he bestrode, while the animal danced about, refusing to go ahead.

At every blow of the whip the horse under the girl started in fear, trembling and snorting. She was obliged to give him much of her attention, but she sharply called to the man:

"Don't whip Firefoot that way, Cousin Stephen! He is not used to your harsh ways, and--"

"I'll make him used to them!" grated the man, his face flushed with anger. "He is a miserable brute anyway!"

"But not half such a brute as the man on his back!" muttered Frank.

"Roight ye are, me b'y," agreed Barney. "It's a foine lookin' crayther he's batin' there."

"And a fine creature it is," declared Frank; "but it will not take long to spoil it in that way. The fellow doesn't know how to ride, and he has confused the horse between yanking and whipping it. It's likely the creature stopped and began to rear and back because it did not know what its rider wanted."

The sight of the approaching bicycles seemed to startle the horse more than ever, and it bolted out of the road with its rider, who was nearly swept from the saddle by an overhanging limb.

Again the man fiercely applied the whip. Then he, too, saw the bicyclists, and cried to them in a snarling voice:

"What do you mean by riding along here like this? You chaps have no right in the road, anyway! Can't you see you have frightened this horse?"

That brought a touch of warm color to the handsome face of our hero, but his voice was calm and steady as he retorted:

"We have as much right on the public highway as you. The trouble with your horse is that you have abused and frightened it. You are not a fit person to ride a horse or have any dealings with one."

That seemed to make the man more frantic than ever. He tried to force the horse at Frank, but the creature shyed at the wheel, so the rider did not accomplish his design of riding Merriwell down.

With a muttered cry of anger, the man struck at Frank with his whip, and the lash fell upon the boy's shoulder, so that he felt the sting through his coat.

Then of a sudden, away leaped the horse, nearly unseating its rider. The girl followed.

"Confound him," muttered Merriwell, watching the retreating figure of the horseman.

"May th' Ould Nick floy away wid him!" cried Barney. "Did he hurrut yez, Frankie?"

"No. If he had, I might be tempted to follow him. Let him go. It is plain he thinks he is a blue blood and owns the earth. What he really needs is a sound thras.h.i.+ng."

"An' ye're th' b'y to give him thot, Frankie!"

"I want no quarrel with him, though it did make me hot to see him lash that horse. Look at him now! See him bob in the saddle and saw at the reins! He will ruin the mouth of that horse, as well as spoil its temper. It's a shame!"

"So it is!" nodded Barney.

The man and girl disappeared from view, and gradually the sound of the galloping horses died out in the distance.

CHAPTER XIX-A RESCUE ON THE ROAD

Frank and Barney rode along leisurely.

"The mouth of a horse, until it is spoiled by bad usage, is a very delicate thing," declared Frank. "As a common thing the mouth of a horse is ruined before the creature is seven years old. In order to preserve its natural delicacy, the right sort of a bit must be used and the reins must be handled gingerly. A heavy hand will ruin a good mouth in a short time, but not one man in fifty can drive with a light hand. The man who saws on the reins has no business in the saddle. If I owned that black horse it would take the price of the animal to induce me to let such a rider mount him for a ten-mile canter."

"But whin a crayther runs away, thin phwat're yez goin' to do?" asked the Irish lad. "Ye've got ter yank him up, me b'y."

"Not at all, Barney. Yanking and sawing are vile practices."

"Thin how do yez be afther holdin' the b'aste?"

"There is a trick in holding a horse with a light hand. Proof of this is that some of the most famous jockeys, although slight and weak, can control and hold horses which would run away with strong men, and could not be sawed or yanked into submission. The best jockeys are never seen leaning back in the saddle, pulling and sawing to hold their horses."

"Oi belave it's roight ye are, me b'y," nodded the Irish youth, after a moment, "although Oi niver thought av it before."

"Take notice of it on race tracks hereafter. Horses are apt to behave better with women, if they are skillful, for women commonly have lighter hands than men. That fellow did not know how to ride, for all that the horse did not throw him when it jumped sideways or started ahead. It's ten to one he thinks himself an expert rider, but he is a bungler, for, besides having a bad hand, he did not sit well in the saddle. When the horse started suddenly he was forced to support himself somewhat by a hard pull on the reins, a thing that never should be done. A good rider has a seat low in the saddle, which he grips with his knees and thighs, keeps his back straight, keeps his elbows, and hands down, and varies the force on the reins only for the purpose of controlling his horse, and not for steadying himself."

Barney gave Frank a glance of wonder. He saw that Merriwell was warming to his subject and growing enthusiastic.