Betty Gordon at Bramble Farm | Page 9

voice.
"No, head trouble," retorted Mr. Gordon, stepping over to the driver of
the car. "Balky horse."
"You don't say!" The motorist seemed surprised and interested. "I'd
give you a tow if you were going my way. But, do you know, my son
who runs a farm for me has a way of fixing a horse like that. He says
it's all mental. Beating 'em is a waste of time. Jim unharnesses a horse
that balks with him, leads it on a way and then rolls the wagon up and
gears up again. Horse thinks he's starting all over--new trip, you see.
What's the word I want?"
"Psychological?" said the sweet, clear voice of Betty promptly.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" the motorist swept off his cap. "Thank you,
whoever you are. That's what I wanted to say. Yes, nowadays they
believe in reasoning with a horse. I'll help you unhitch if you say so."
"Let me," pleaded Betty. "Please, Uncle Dick. I know quite a lot about
unharnessing. Can't I get out and do one side?"
The motorist was already out of his car, and at her uncle's brief "all
right," Betty slipped down and ran to the traces. The stranger observed
her curiously.
"Thought you were older," he said genially. "Where did a little tyke
like you get hold of such a long word?"
"I read it," replied Betty proudly. "They use it in the Ladies' Aid when
they want to raise more money than usual and they hate to ask for it
Mrs. Banker says there's a psychological moment to ask for
contributions, and I have to copy the secretary's notes for her."
"I see," said the stranger. "There! Now, Mr. Heady here is free, and

we'll lead him up the road a way.
Uncle Dick led the horse, who went willingly enough, and Betty and
the kind friend-in-need, as she called him to herself, each took a shaft
of the light buggy and pulled it after them. To their surprise, when the
horse was again harnessed to the wagon it started at the word "gid-ap,"
and gave every evidence of a determination to do as all good horses
do--whatever they are ordered.
"Guess he's all right," said the motorist, holding out his hand to Mr.
Gordon. "Now, don't thank me--only ordinary road courtesy, I assure
you. Hope your troubles are over for the night."
The two men exchanged cards, and, lifting his hat to Betty, though he
couldn't see her in the buggy, the stranger went back to his car.
"Wasn't he nice?" chattered Betty, as the horse trotted briskly. Uncle
Dick grimly resolved to make it pay for the lost time. "We might have
been stuck all night."
"Every indication of it," admitted Mr. Gordon. "However, I'm glad to
say that I've always found travelers willing to go to any trouble to help.
Don't ever leave a person in trouble on the road if you can do one thing
to aid him, Betty. I want you to remember that."
Betty promised, a bit sleepily, for the motion and the soft, night air
were making her drowsy. She sat up, however, when they came in sight
of the winking red and green lights that showed the railroad crossing.
"No gateman, is there?" inquired her uncle. "Well, I'll go ahead and
look, and you be ready to drive across when I whistle."
He climbed down and ran forward, and Betty sat quietly, the reins held
ready in her hand. In a few moments she heard her signal, a clear, sharp
whistle. She spoke to the horse, who moved on at an irritatingly slow
pace.
"For goodness sake!" said Betty aloud, "can't you hurry?"

She peered ahead, trying to make out her uncle's figure, but the heavy
pine trees that grew on either side of the road threw shadows too deep
for anything to be plainly outlined. Betty, nervously on the lockout,
scarcely knew when they reached the double track, but she realized her
position with a sickening heart thump when the horse stopped suddenly.
The bay had chosen the grade crossing as a suitable place to enjoy a
second fit of balkiness.
"Uncle Dick!" cried Betty in terror. "Uncle Dick, he's stopped again!
Come and help me unhitch!"
No one answered.
Betty had nerves as strong and as much presence of mind as any girl of
her age, but a woman grown might consider that she had cause for
hysterics if she found herself late at night marooned in the middle of a
railroad track with a balky horse and no one near to give her even a
word of advice. For a moment Betty rather lost her head and screamed
for her uncle. This passed quickly though, and she became calmer. The
whip she knew was useless. So was