he
road-side. There was but a moment in which to form a resolve. Wilbert
seized a loose board from the fence and held it squarely across the
road, throwing it with all his strength toward the ponies. Thus
attacked, they became confused, and turned to the road-side, upsetting
the watering-trough, and stopped. Wilbert scrambled up out of the dust
into which he had been thrown by the force of his effort, and caught the
reins. Two men ran to the horses' heads, while another brought the
injured boy to the spot.

"I guess we had better get him home as soon as we can," said one of the
men. "He's stopping over to the Judge's, and is his nephew. Here, you,
Wilbert, just git in, and hold his head up, while I manage these little
scamps. Things ain't much broken, considering how the critters run."

So they drove back to the Willows. Wilbert went in with the man,
secretly wondering at the beautiful rooms, the rich carpets, pictures,
and easy-chairs. They surpassed anything he had ever seen or dreamed of.
Then Wilbert was sent after the doctor, and made himself so handy that
it was agreed he should stay and help nurse Clarence, for that was the
boy's name.

For six weeks the injured lad lay in bed, and Wilbert remained
faithfully by him. As Clarence grew stronger, the boys became very fond
of each other, though they had never met before the accident, Clarence
having just arrived from Boston on a visit to his uncle.

He told Wilbert that his father was a manufacturer, and that his mother
was dead. The young visitor had a great many books, some of which
Wilbert found time to read while watching by the bedside. One of these
was a story of the life of George Stephenson, who invented the first
locomotive. This was such a favorite with Wilbert that the sick boy gave
it to him.

All that he read set him to thinking. Why couldn't he too invent
something, and become famous? Long after everybody else slept Wilbert
lay in bed with his eyes wide open, until he had thought out a plan for
hitching horses to carriages in such a manner that they couldn't run
away.

The very next day he walked to the village and bought a few tools and
such material as he thought his device would require, and then set about
making a model.

The Judge good-naturedly laughed at his "notion," as he termed it, but
allowed him to work at it all of his spare time. "Work's a mint," said
he, "and such work ain't mischief, at any rate."

At last Wilbert had his mode