She watched the child in a kind
of stupor. She knew he ought not to do that. Seth's horses were not
safe for a grown-up, much less a child. She wondered where Seth was or
Billy Evans or Hank. She wondered if she'd better have them telephone
to Billy from the bank and have him get little Billy. She half turned
to do that and then out of the hotel door Jim Tumley came reeling and
singing. Only his voice was a maudlin screech. Little Billy had by
this time gotten into the wagon, pulled the whip from its socket, and
just as Jim came staggering up, touched the more nervous of the two
horses with it. And then it happened--what Green Valley had been
dreading for months.
When men heard the commotion and turned to look they saw Seth's horses
tearing madly round the hotel corner. Little Billy Evans was rattling
around in the wagon box like a cork on the water and Fanny Foster,
swaying like a reed, was hanging desperately to the horses' heads.
Hank Lolly was pitching hay into the barn loft. He saw, jumped and
then lay still with a broken leg. Seth saw and Billy Evans and scores
of other men, and they all ran madly to help. But the terrified
animals waited for no man. And then from the throats of the running
crowd a groan broke, for the school doors opened and into the spring
sunshine and the arms of certain death the little first and second
graders came dancing.
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