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"You are late after all," said Mr. Bobbsey, rather displeased. "Oh, we've had such an adventure," cried Bert. "What happened to you?" questioned Mrs. Bobbsey quickly. "Rusher threw us into a sand pit," answered Bert, and then told the whole story. "You can be thankful that you were not hurt," said his mamma. "I am thankful, mamma." "Rusher is still full of go," said Mrs. Ramdell.
"But that will be easy, if we keep to the places where the wind has swept the snow away." At last they stood on the road, and this reached both struck out for Dalton, less than a mile away. "I'm afraid I'll catch it, if Rusher has smashed up the cutter," said Bob as they hurried along. "We did wrong to race," answered Bert. "Humph! it's no use to cry over spilt milk, Bert." "I know that, Bob.
And the enlightened gladly admit that the well-paid, well-rested, independent worker usually does more in his eight or nine hours than he used to do in his twelve or fourteen. After the inauguration of the limited-hour day the contractors invented what is known as a "rusher."
Down it came, out shot Blair's hands, and catching it like a baseball he was off at a jump, Kingdon beside him. Joel swung about, gave a shoulder to an oncoming blue-clad rusher, ran slowly until the two backs were hard behind him, and then dashed on. Surely there was no way through that crowded field.
"Phew," said Tom, "that's a hot one right off the bat." "He hits straight from the shoulder," agreed Dick. "I'll bet the old boy himself would have been a dandy football rusher, if he'd ever got into the game." "He certainly leaves no doubt as to where he stands on the question," assented the Professor, "and I think we'll admit, after that, that the game has improved.
"I called Constance over from the candy booth to take my place because a gray-haired rusher came back seven times to have me pin violets on his coat and I couldn't smile any more. There he goes now. That's his second trip for Constance." "This is a cruel world. I suppose it would fuss her all up if I dropped him out of a window," Johnny observed wistfully. "Constance doesn't need help.
"I have warned my husband not to let Bob drive him." "Oh, it was the brush with the other cutter that did it," said Bob. "Rusher couldn't stand it to let another horse pass him on the road." Shortly after this, good-bys were said, and Sam brought around the big family sleigh from the barn. Into this the whole Bobbsey family piled, and off they went, in the gathering gloom of the short winter day.
He tried to save himself by clutching at the ice and snow, but it was useless, and in a twinkling he disappeared into the sand pit! Bob followed, while Rusher went on more gayly than ever, hauling the overturned cutter after him. Down and down went poor Bert into the deep snow, until he thought he was never going to stop.
"Steady, Rusher, steady!" he called out to the steed. "Steady, old boy!" But the old race horse was now warmed up to his work and paid no attention to what was said. On and on he sped, until the young man in the other cutter was gradually outdistanced. "Told you I could beat you!" flung back Bob.
Daly, did you catch our horse?" "I did, Bob," said the farmer. "Had a runaway, eh?" "Yes, sir. Rusher threw us both into the old sand pit. I'm ever so glad you caught him. Is the cutter broken?" "Not that I noticed. I knew you must have had a spill-out. I saw you going to the lake right after dinner."
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