by Carol Norton
Chapter Thirteen The Mystery Is Solved
The next morning Jim rode to Springdale for newspapers and supplies forTimothy. Purchases were becoming rather difficult of late. Perhaps it wasmerely his fancy, but he felt that the man in the store was beginning tolook at him curiously when he made his daily purchase of severalnewspapers. As for cigarettes, Jim had bought what he felt was his limitwithout exciting suspicion. He would have to think of some new solutionfor Timothy's tobacco problem. The last quart of milk purchased hadbrought forth a comment from the clerk.
"Haven't you got any cows on that farm?"
"Oh, sure," replied Jim, with what he considered magnificent nonchalance."This is for a customer. I run errands of all sorts you know. Don't needa good rural delivery boy, do you?"
Feeling that he had allayed suspicion for the moment, Jim rode off towardthe hide-out. While the intrigue he was carrying on with Timothy was themost exciting adventure in which he had ever taken part, he had to facefacts. Avoiding questions was bound to become increasingly moredifficult. Also, the end of summer vacation was not too far distant.Going to school, doing his chores at home, and continuing the operationof the Pony Express was going to make a very stiff schedule without theadded labor of having to administer to the wants of Timothy. Cold weatherwould add further complications. How would Timothy heat the cave? Also,there was the matter of money. While he was still operating on theoriginal twenty dollars that Timothy had given him, sooner or later themoney would be exhausted. Jim didn't begrudge using some of his own moneyto provide for his new friend, but if the proceeds of the Pony Expresswere all used up for food, in time it would grow irksome. He could seelong years stretching ahead of him during which he would have to continuethe responsibility which he had assumed. The law didn't forget quickly;there was no way of knowing when Timothy would come out of hiding.Unquestionably what was now a thrilling escapade would develop into aburdensome chore as time passed.
Occupied with such worrisome thoughts, he arrived at the hide-out.Timothy met him and was so cheerful that Jim soon forgot his forebodings.He told the story of Jean's mishap, and they both agreed that theirsecret had come perilously close to being discovered.
"I had to tell Jean everything," explained Jim. "It was only fair, andshe can be trusted."
"You can't keep a secret from a woman anyhow," said Timothy sagely. "Oncethey suspect anything is being kept from them, you haven't got a chance."
Together the two began their usual search through the papers for newsabout Willie Fry or his assailant. There was nothing to be found; soTimothy turned to the sport section to read the racing news. Suddenly helet out a startled shout.
"What's the matter?" asked Jim.
"Look here!" said Timothy excitedly. "Fireball won the fourth at Havre deGrace and was ridden by Willie Fry!"
Jim examined the paper. Timothy was correct; Willie Fry had ridden in thefourth race.
"There aren't two jockeys named Willie Fry are there?" he asked.
"Never heard of any other except the rat I socked," said Timothy. "Idon't get this."
"Maybe you didn't kill him after all. Maybe you just knocked him out. Heprobably came to and didn't even notify the police. That's why we haven'tnoticed anything in the papers."
"Well, he didn't have any pulse when I felt his wrist," said Timothywonderingly.
"I think you need some lessons on how to feel pulses," suggested Jimdryly. "You were probably so excited that you couldn't find his." Hebegan to look casually over the remainder of the sporting news.
"Look! Here's a little article about Willie Fry," he said. "Listen!'Willie Fry, well-known jockey, was married yesterday to Miss AlvinaMorgan, of Baltimore, Md. Miss Morgan is well known to racing circles, asshe has accompanied the Roudcroft Stables string as cook to tracksthroughout the country. In addition to serving delicious food to theRoudcroft personnel, Miss Morgan is famous for always having a welcomecup of coffee for any jockey, trainer or trackman. Track people will behappy to hear that the new Mrs. Fry will continue at her old post in thetrailer which serves as her kitchen. Coffee will still be on tap.
"'Willie celebrated his wedding day by winning the fourth race at Havrede Grace, riding Fireball. This was the first race ridden by Willie sincehe was struck down by an unknown assailant at Churchill Downs severalweeks ago.'"
"See," said Jim, as he finished reading. "You just knocked him out. He'sprobably just as anxious as you are to forget the whole thing. If he toldwho hit him, you'd tell about his doping a horse."
Timothy wasn't listening, however, but was staring incredulously at Jim."Let me see the paper," he said finally in a strained voice.
"Alvina married to Willie! I'd never have believed it." Timothy shook hishead as if stunned. Slowly his disbelief turned to indignation. "Why twoweeks ago she was engaged to me! I spent a month's wages on a diamondring for her. And now she marries Willie Fry!
"I guess I'm glad Willie Fry is all right," went on Timothy calming down."Just sort of shakes your faith in human nature, though, a thing likethis does. Kind of a jolt to be sweet on a gal and have her turn aroundtwo weeks after you're gone and marry your worst enemy. Well, they canhave each other for my money. I wish them all the unhappiness in theworld. 'Spose I'm lucky to find out about Alvina in time. Just doesn'tseem possible though that a woman who can bake an apple pie like Alvinadoes would turn out to be so fickle."
"Well, it sure makes things simpler," said Jim happily. He could not bebothered by such trivial matters as a broken heart. "Now I suppose you'llgo get your old job back as trainer?"
"Not on your life!" said Timothy with great feeling. "I may not be huntedby the law anymore, but my career at the tracks is ruined."
"Why?" asked Jim, completely baffled.
"Why I'd be the laughingstock of every track in the country. Willie hasprobably concocted some story about how he scared me away and now he'sstolen my girl. Everyone in the racing business knew I was engaged toAlvina. No siree, I can't go back to the tracks now."
"What'll you do then?" asked Jim solicitously.
"Well, maybe I can get a job taking care of horses at some riding stableor breeding farm," said Timothy. "Somebody ought to need a good horsehandler."
"I know where I can get you a job right around here," said Jim, as asudden thought struck him. "It would be handling big Percherons though.Do you know anything about them?"
Percheron draft team]
"Sure. I once handled a whole stable of them. One of the big truckingfirms in Milwaukee used to have some beautiful teams. They used them forsome of their deliveries as sort of advertising. You get six big prancingPercherons pulling a wagon and it's a beautiful sight."
"Mr. Hernstadt raises Percherons, and he's looking for a good man," saidJim. "I found one of his horses that had strayed; so I'm in good withhim. We'll go see him and I'll recommend you."
"That sounds like a good idea," said Timothy. "I look pretty ragged,though, to be applying for a job."
"I'll ride in town and buy you a new shirt and overalls," volunteeredJim. "Then we'll go see Mr. Hernstadt."
Jim was back with the new clothes in slightly over an hour. After Timothyhad changed, they both mounted Ticktock and rode into town, where Timothyhad his hair cut. After eating lunch they set out for the Hernstadt farm.
"I certainly owe you a lot," said Timothy as they approached theirdestination. "Whether I get the job or not, you certainly have gone to alot of trouble for me. A guy that helps you when you're in trouble is areal friend."
"I knew you weren't a real crook," said Jim, embarrassed by Timothy'sgratitude. "The minute Ticktock liked you, I figured you could betrusted."
"I owe this little horse plenty too," said Timothy. "After he has carrieddouble for so far, I'm not sure he's going to like me anymore though."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hernstadt," said Jim when they arrived. "This isTimothy Dinwiddie, a friend of mine. He's a very good horse traine
r. Iremembered that you asked me to find you a good man to handle horses; soI brought him over to see you. The Pony Express always gets its man."
"Glad to meet you," said Mr. Hernstadt, shaking hands with Timothy. "Whatexperience have you had?"
In a few minutes the two men were deep in horse talk, much of it far tootechnical for Jim. It was apparent to the horse breeder, after a shortconversation, that Timothy definitely knew horses. The three of them madea tour of the stables, Mr. Hernstadt explaining the various duties of thejob. Jim walked through the immaculate barns with their modern equipment,his eyes wide with interest. Every convenience he saw he wanted forTicktock's stall. They finally ended their tour at a small shed thatcontained a forge, an anvil and complete blacksmithing equipment.
"It's rather difficult to find a good blacksmith these days," explainedMr. Hernstadt. "Everyone uses tractors, and there isn't enough businessto keep a good blacksmith going. I had so much trouble finding a man whoreally knew how to shoe a horse that I bought this equipment to do itmyself. Ever shoe a horse?"
"Many a time," said Timothy confidently. "You haven't shown me anythingyet, Mr. Hernstadt, that I can't handle."
"I believe you. If you want to try the job for a month, I'll be glad tohave you. There are nice quarters over that harness shed where you canlive. Come on and I'll show you."
The details of salary and duties were settled and Timothy declared hisintention of going to work immediately. He was very enthusiastic abouthis new job, liking his employer, and admiring the horses and all themodern equipment. Feeling very satisfied at the way matters had turnedout, Jim prepared to leave.
"What do I owe the Pony Express for finding me a good man to handlehorses?" Mr. Hernstadt asked Jim.
"Nothing at all," answered Jim. "This comes under the heading of goodwill. Employment service is a little out of our line. I was just doingthis as a favor to a friend."
"Well, thank you very much," said the farmer laughing.
"I'd like to do something for the Pony Express though," said Timothy. "Iowe the firm a lot. If it's all right with you Mr. Hernstadt, when I getthe time I'd like to use the blacksmith shop to shoe Ticktock."
"Certainly, any time you like," agreed Mr. Hernstadt cordially.
"Bring him over in about two weeks," said Timothy. "By then I'll know myway around and be able to find the time. He needs reshoeing."
"Thanks," replied Jim. "I've been wondering where I was going to get himshod."
"I'll float his teeth too," said Timothy. "I was looking at them one dayand they could stand it."
"What does 'floating his teeth' mean?" Jim inquired.
"Those back teeth are called grinders," explained Timothy. "They grind upthe grain and after a while they get sharp edges and points. Ticktock'saren't so bad, as apparently he hasn't had too much grain. Anyhow, unlessyou file away those sharp edges, the horse can't chew the way he should.When the teeth get really bad a horse gets out of condition and sometimeshas colic. Filing down the teeth is called floating."
"You weren't wrong when you said he knew horses," said Mr. Hernstadt toJim.
As soon as Jim reached home, he told his sister about the happy ending toTimothy's story. She was very pleased that the trainer was no longer afugitive from justice, but her pleasure seemed overshadowed by her worryabout Timothy's broken heart.
"Don't be silly," said Jim, who couldn't understand her concern. "Whyshould he worry about a woman when he's got twenty-three horses?"
Later that evening Jim sat contentedly in the living room reading a bookabout the West in the days of the pioneers. He was deeply engrossed in arunning battle between a wagon train and the Indians when the clockstruck nine.
"Your bedtime, Jim," said Mr. Meadows.
Jim was feeling too happy and satisfied with the world in general to putup his usual fight against bed. He stood up obediently, and with his nosestill buried in the book, started to walk toward the stairs.
"Jim," said Mr. Meadows, embarrassedly clearing his throat, "there'ssomething I wanted to say."
"Yes, Dad," said Jim looking up in surprise at his father's rather redface.
"It's about that horse of yours," said Mr. Meadows lamely. "I guess I waswrong about Ticktock. He's a pretty smart horse, the way he led us towhere your sister was. I think we can find room and feed enough to keephim permanently."
"Thanks, Dad," said Jim. "That's wonderful!"
His world was very full of happiness. Knowing how difficult it was forhis father to make such a speech as he had just heard, he was deeplyappreciative. Jim, like his father, was unable to act very demonstrative,so having expressed his thanks, he hurried upstairs to bed. Theyunderstood each other, he and his father. Although they didn't say much,each knew how the other felt.
Jim dropped off to sleep with a contented smile on his face. Ticktock washis forever, Timothy was safe now, and the hide-out was stillundiscovered. It was a very satisfactory world.
