Hiram The Young Farmer | Page 8

of the town where Hiram boarded was brightly lighted, gaudy electric signs attracting notice to cheap picture shows, catch-penny arcades, cheap jewelry stores, and the ever present saloons and pool rooms.
It looked bright, and warm, and lively in many of these places; but the country-bred boy was cautious.
Now and then a raucous-voiced automobile shot along the street; the electric cars made their usual clangor, and there was still some ordinary traffic of the day dribbling away into the side streets, for it was early in the evening.
Hiram was about to turn into one of these side streets on his way back to Mrs. Atterson's. Turning the corner was a handsome span of horses attached to a comfortable but mud-bespattered carriage. It was plainly from the country.
The light at the corner of the street shone brightly into the carriage. Hiram saw a well-built man in a gray greatcoat and slouch hat, holding the reins over the backs of the spirited horses.
Beside him sat a girl. She could have been no more than twelve or fourteen--not so old as Sister, by a year or two. But how different she was from the starved-looking, boarding house slavey!
She was framed in furs--rich, gray and black furs that muffled her from top to toe, only leaving her brilliant, dark little face with its perfect features shining like a jewel in its setting.
She was talking laughingly to the big man beside her, and he was looking down at her. Perhaps this was why he did not see what lay just ahead--or perhaps the glare of the street light blinded him, as it must have the horses, as the equipage turned into the darker side street.
But Hiram saw their peril. He sprang into the street with a cry of warning. And he was lucky enough to seize the nigh horse by the bridle and pull both the high-steppers around.
There was an excavation--an opening for a water-main--in this street. The workmen had either neglected to leave a red lantern, or malicious boys had stolen it.
Another moment and the horses would have been in this excavation and even now the carriage swayed. One forward wheel went over the edge of the hole, and for the minute it was doubtful whether Hiram had saved the occupants of the carriage by his quick action, or had accelerated the catastrophe.

CHAPTER IV
THE LOST CARD
Had Hiram Strong not been a muscular youth for his age, and sturdy withal, the excited horses would have broken away from him and the carriage would certainly have gone into the ditch.
But he had a grip on the bridle reins now that could not be broken, although the horses plunged and struck fire from the stones of the street with their shoes. He dragged them forward, the carriage pitched and rolled for a moment, and then stood upright again, squarely on its four wheels.
"All right, lad! I've got 'em!" exclaimed the gentleman in the carriage.
He had a hearty, husky sort of voice--a voice that came from deep down in his chest and was more than a little hoarse. But there was no quiver of excitement in it. Indeed, he who had been in peril was much less disturbed by the incident than was Hiram himself.
Nor had the girl screamed, or otherwise voiced her terror. Now Hiram heard her say, as he stepped back from the plunging horses:
"That is a good boy, Daddy. Speak to him again."
The man in gray laughed. He was now holding in the frightened team with one firm hand while he fumbled in the pocket of his big coat with the other.
"He certainly has got some muscle, that lad," announced the "gentleman. Here, son, where can I find you when I'm in town "again?"
"I work at Dwight's Emporium," replied Hiram, rather diffidently.
"All right. Thanks. Here's my card. You're the kind of a boy I like. I'll surely look you up."
He held out the bit of pasteboard to Hiram; but as the youth stepped nearer to reach it, the impatient horses sprang forward and the carriage rolled swiftly by him.
The card flipped from the man's fingers. Hiram grabbed for it, but missed the card. It fluttered into the excavation in the street and the shadow hid it completely from the boy's gaze.
Had there been a lantern nearby, as there should have been, Hiram would have taken it to search for the lost card. For he felt suddenly as though Opportunity had brushed past him.
The man in the carriage evidently lived out of town. He might be a prosperous farmer. And, being a farmer, he might be able to give Hiram just the sort of job he was looking for.
The card, of course, would have put Hiram in touch with the man. And he seemed like a hearty, good-natured individual.
"And the girl--his daughter--was as pretty as a picture,"