Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
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HE was generally called Old Scudamore, but the adjective was put there, not on account of his advanced years, but probably because his temper was so bad. It was true that Scudamore had a daughter nineteen years of age, but a man may still be in the prime of life and possess such a luxury.
Old Scudamore made things lively wherever he was, and the people of his neighborhood were usually afraid of him. When the bicycle came to its present state of perfection, pneumatic tires, and all the rest of it, Old Scudamore invested in one. He soon became as fleet a wheelman as any man of his age. It was said that Old Scudamore did not ride the bicycle for the pleasure of it, but merely because the machine allowed him to get over his estate swiftly and silently. Silence and speed were said to be the great attraction the bicycle had for Scudamore, because he could drop down suddenly upon any group of workmen on his place and find instantly whether they were attending to the business he paid them for, or whether they were "soldiering." A horse usually gave notice of his approach, while a bicycle did not. Scudamore's speed on his wheel soon resulted in an abbreviation of his name, and they called him "Old Scud," or sometimes "The Flying Scud."
Perhaps Scudamore's greatest triumph on his bicycle was his discovery of the lovers. He had taken a secluded path which ran through his estate. It was bordered on each side by trees, which effectually screened the foot-way from all observation. He took this unaccustomed route, though the cycling was none too good on it, so that he might be more certain of coming unawares upon a group of laborers who were working at a drain beyond the further end of the path. As he came to a turn in the foot-way he was surprised to see ahead of him two young persons walking together—young persons of opposite sex. As he approached silently, he was amazed to find one of them was his own daughter, and the other the impecunious young cashier of the County Bank. He remembered that Wednesday afternoon was a half holiday at the bank, and thus the young fellow had had an opportunity of quitting the counting of cash, that was not his own, for the courting of the daughter of the man who was the largest depositor in the bank.
Old Scudamore gnashed his teeth in rage and nearly fell off his bicycle as he realized that the young man was probably there because his knowledge of the affairs of the bank gave him an indication of the wealth of the girl's father. He could think of no other reason for a young man coming from town to walk in a secluded spot with a pretty girl.
Old Scudamore cycled slowly and silently behind them for some time, listening to their conversation, and he was alongside the young man before either of them noticed his presence. The great value of a cycle is, that it can keep its own counsel. The girl gave a slight shriek when she realized that her father was beside her, but the young man kept admirably cool.
"Are you aware, sir," said Scudamore, "that you are trespassing?"
"I'm afraid I am, Mr. Scudamore," said the young fellow, "in more senses than one."
"You are a scoundrel!" cried Scudamore, "and if I ever catch you on this place again I will have you horsewhipped to the village. Meanwhile I will see the manager of the bank and have you discharged. I suppose you know enough of the affairs of the bank to be aware that I have sufficient influence for that purpose."
"Yes," said the young man, "I know that you have; still, I had thought of retiring from the bank on becoming your son-in-law. I thought you might perhaps want an energetic young man to look after your estate, for everybody says that if you keep on the way you are going, you won't have a man left on the place."
"You impudent villain!" cried Old Scud, in a rage. "I'll teach you to talk to your betters in that fashion. Edna, you go home; I'll talk to you later on."
The girl was very much afraid of her father, and though she looked appealingly at him and cast a frightened glance at the young man, she obeyed and walked toward the house.
"Now, you young jack-a-napes," said Old Scud, "do you know what I am going to do? I'm going to hand you over to the police for trespassing on these grounds."
"I believe," said young Sherwin, "that you are just idiot enough to do a thing of that sort. Of course you can't make yourself the talk of the country-side more than you are now, but you can, at least, raise a scandal by handing me over to the police, and mixing your daughter's name up in it."
"I'll show you, you dog," said Old Scud. "Of course it would be a scandal to have her name mixed up with yours, but I'll take very good care that her name is not so mixed. If my daughter's name is mentioned, it will be because you mention it; and if you do so, fool as the girl is, she will have nothing more to say to you."
The young man realized the force of this, and he walked along the path silent, while Old Scudamore cycled slowly along by his side. When they were still some distance from the gate that led into the main road Sherwin made a sudden dash into the bushes, and drew forth a cycle which was concealed there. The old man, thinking the dash was made to escape him, jumped from his machine, and so the young fellow got a perceptible advantage in the race. He pushed the cycle before him to the path and sprang on it.
"Now, Old Scud," he shouted, "let's see who reaches the highway first."
Although Scudamore was not old, his powers on the bicycle were nothing to those of the cashier's. The young man reached the gate a long way ahead of him, and when Scudamore passed into the highroad, his speedy opponent was nowhere to be seen. Old Scudamore knew the young man must have taken the road to the village, for the other way led directly to his own house, and it was not likely the cashier would have taken that direction. The truth was, however, that Sherwin had not gone out into the main road at all, but had concealed himself behind the porter's lodge. The porter, being under notice of dismissal, was reckless. He hated Old Scud, and was friendly to the lovers. The moment Scudamore entered the highroad, young Sherwin sprang on his bicycle and went like lightning up the path again, until he overtook the girl. He quickly explained to her what had happened and said:
"You see, my dear Edna, life for you will be perfectly unbearable, now that he has found it out There is nothing for us but to escape to the Scottish border as quickly as we can and get married. We must go at once, or, as your father said, there is no chance of my ever seeing you again, if we don't."
"But," protested the girl, "how are we to go? You can't take me on your cycle, and I haven't one of my own, and I couldn't ride if I had. If we walk, father will surely overtake us, and he will certainly inquire for me the moment he gets home."
"I'll tell you what to do," said the young man, who was a person of resource. "You go to the house as quickly as you can. I'll go back to the porter's lodge, conceal my cycle, and wait for you there. Order out the dog cart, and put what things you urgently need in it. Have the fastest horse in the stables harnessed to the dog cart. Drive down to the lodge. I will join you there, and after that we will chance it."
"But," said the girl, "we are sure to meet father between the town and here."
"Not if we turn down Durwood's lane. If we can get that far we are all right. He will never think of looking in that direction. The great thing is speed, so get down to the porter's lodge as quickly as you can. You see, nobody at the house suspects anything, and it will not be difficult, but after to-day you will find you will be kept a close prisoner. It is now or never, Edna, if you care anything for me."
Edna protested that she cared everything. The young man went back to the porter's lodge. He concealed his bicycle, and then waited with much impatience for the girl. At last she came, driving a horse that was celebrated for its speed. Young Sherwin sprang up beside her.
"Let me have the reins," he said.
"No, no," protested the girl. "I'm sure I can drive ever so much better than you can, and besides, if we meet father he cannot accuse me of stealing the horse, while it is just possible he might make such a charge against you, if we are caught."
They reached the turning and got into the lane without being observed, and so felt reasonably certain of success. But, alas! they had counted not on the uncertain ways of Old Scud. He had cycled down into the town and found nothing of the man he was pursuing. He had learned, from passers-by, that no one had passed on a cycle for more than an hour, so he made up his mind that the young man would come by the lane, which, though the longest way round, was the safest from observation. Accordingly, Old Scud, without waiting in the town, cycled out through the place to where the lane joined the main road. He felt sure he would meet his enemy there, and his prediction was indeed verified, but in a way he little imagined. He was looking for a cyclist, and so paid little attention to the traps he met.
"There is just one chance in a million," said young Sherwin to Edna, when she, with terror, recognized her father on his wheel, "and that is he may not recognize us. Anyhow, there will be a race for it. It's too late to turn back, Edna, so whip up the horse and let us win if we can."
It is a curious thing that impressions are sometimes left on the brain as a photograph is left on an undeveloped plate. The young people at first thought they had passed the old man unrecognized. He was bending his head over his work, and putting his best licks on the treadles. He merely glanced at the cart, and would have asked if they had seen a cyclist, only he noticed it was a lady who was driving. So, without paying any attention to the pair, he rang his bell sharply to warn them to keep to their own side of the road, and passed them like a cyclone. But as the old man worked his way along, the picture, or snapshot as it were, left on his brain began to develop and he recognized a familiarity in the horse and trap he had passed. He was half a mile beyond them when it flashed into his mind that it was his own horse and vehicle he had met. He got off his bicycle and looked after them. The girl was urging the horse to greater speed, and at that moment the young man was looking over his shoulder up the lane. Instantly the truth of the situation was born in upon Old Scudamore. The advantages and disadvantages of the position passed before him. It was useless to go back and get another horse, for they would be in Scotland long before he could hope to overtake them. On the other hand his already sharp ride had tired him, while their horse was fresh. The road to Scotland was anything but level. It was up hill and down dale all the way, and Old Scudamore knew that going up hill they would out-distance him, for he would have to get off and walk, but going down hill at full speed and risking everything, he would very likely overtake them. Then he remembered with joy that the last three miles of the race was a long incline to the bridge at the border. If he could not overtake them before, he was sure to do so at that stage of the race.
"By all the gods," cried young Sherwin at that moment, "he's after us. Give me the reins and the whip, Edna, we must get over the bridge first, if we kill the horse in doing so."
The young girl, with a cry of fear, gave the reins into her lover's hands. In spite of all efforts of the horse they could not once shake off Old Scudamore, nor yet could he overtake them, but young Sherwin realized, as did Old Scudamore, that on the long decline to the bridge he would come up with them, even if they kept their horse on the gallop.
When the eloping couple reached the top of the hill where the Borderer's Arms stand, three miles from the bridge that leads into Scotland, the old man was but half a mile behind them trudging up the hill as stubbornly, and apparently as fresh as ever.
The young man stopped the horse at the door of a public house.
"Good gracious!" said the girl, "you are not going to stop here?"
"Yes," said young Sherwin. "Don't say a word. I will explain it all later," and he dashed into the public house, where he astonished the bar-maid by asking if she sold empty bottles.
"Yes, sir," she said.
"Then give me an armful quickly," he cried, flinging down a gold piece. "Never mind the change, but be quick about it."
Three arm loads the young man took out to the trap and flung under the seat. The girl, not knowing the bottles were empty, thought the critical situation had turned her lover's brain, but he sprang into the cart, and looking over his shoulder saw that the old man was only half way up the hill.
"Now, my darling," he said, "you take the reins and drive as fast as you can."
When they were above three hundred yards from the tavern, Sherwin took a bottle by the neck and smashed it against the road, then another, and another, and another.
"Why, my poor Reginald, what are you doing that for?" cried the girl.
"This is for the benefit of the old man's pneumatic tires," answered Reginald, as with crash after crash the broken glass scattered over the Queen's highway.
The girl continued driving, while Reginald, looking backward, had the full benefit of the old man's disaster. He did not stop at the top of the hill, but sprang at once on the machine, and came down the incline like a lightning express. Reginald gazed anxiously at the area of broken glass which, he knew, began at the milestone on the northern side of the hotel. The old man came sweeping on without seeming to notice anything, and Reginald's heart stood still, as he saw how the infuriated cyclist was gaining on them.
"The tires must be cut to pieces by this time," he muttered through his clinched teeth, and he began again vigorously to smash bottles. No pneumatic tire that was ever made can stand a roadway of broken glass very long, and Reginald, with a sigh of relief, saw the old man wobble first from one side of the road and then to the other, and at last slow up and dismount.
The excited young man gave a yell of triumph, and waved an empty bottle over his head as he saw Old Scudamore let his machine drop in despair to the ground, while he himself sat down on the second milestone to mop his heated brow.
THEY had been married more than half an hour when the dejected man, trundling a bicycle whose tire hung in ribbons, entered the Scottish village. A smiling young man went forth to meet him.
"It is all right, father-in-law," he said; "I have made inquiries and find that they can put new tires on bicycles in this place, which one wouldn't have expected. I have sent back a lot of men with brooms to sweep the broken glass off the road. You must be somewhat fatigued with your long ride, so let me offer you a lift to the Hall. My wife will be pleased to drive you, and I will see the new tires put on the machine, and will ride it up there this evening. Although your temper is said to be bad, I have always admired your common sense, and assure you that it is the only thing to do. As Edna is your only daughter, and as you and I will have to settle up our little difficulties some time, let us do it now, for two grown men like ourselves don't want to furnish gossip and scandal for this gossipy neighborhood."
"I suppose it is the only thing to do, you villain," said Old Scudamore.
"It is, indeed," replied the villain. "Now go to the parlor, on the first floor of the hotel, and talk real nicely to my wife, while I take the bicycle to the shop."
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.