Part 7

Up to the time that the train began to start he struggled and pulled, hoping to get away and run back to join his mother, but it was no use. The train pulled out, and every minute Billy was carried farther and farther away from the one goat in the world that was dear to him. He was a very sad goat and he would have been sadder still if he had known that his real misfortunes had only begun. All through that afternoon he chewed at the stout rope, trying to get it loose, and all that night whenever he woke up he began to gnaw at it, not knowing, of course, how far he was being carried away, nor how impossible it would be for him ever to get back to New York, over hundreds of miles of ground, across rivers, through tunnels and over ferries, or even find his mother if he ever did reach New York City.

By morning he had his rope nearly gnawed through. Not long after daylight the train stopped at a little station and the baggage doors on both sides of the car were standing open when the train pulled out. Billy gave a tug at his rope and then another one. It came loose, and, giving a short run, he jumped out of the door. The train by this time was going at a good speed, and Billy landed in the gravel of a steep embankment, rolling over and over. After the train went on he lay quite still, for he had fainted. Poor Billy had broken a leg.

After a long time he crawled painfully up to the country road that crossed the railroad track and led into the village they had just passed. He dragged himself along this road quite a way toward the village, but the pain was too great for him to continue very far, so presently he crawled to the side of the road and lay down in the cool grass. He tried to nibble a bit at this but he was too sick, and finally he stretched himself out and closed his eyes. More and more, now, he missed his mother, and felt that if she could only be there to lick his wounds his leg would get well again, but now he felt that there was no hope for him. All he could do was to close his eyes and die.

*CHAPTER XI*

*BILLY JOINS A HAPPY FAMILY*

Whoa!" cried a brisk, cheery voice.

Billy slowly opened his eyes. There on the road above him a pretty Shetland pony stopped suddenly and shook his saucy looking head, while a boy a little bigger than Frank Brown jumped down from a little cart full of grass and ran to the pony's head.

"Now stand still, Dandy, till we see whether our friend here by the roadside needs any help," went on the boy. "It's a fine looking goat, Dandy, but he looks sick."

Dandy danced his front feet up and down and rubbed his nose affectionately against the boy's neck, while a beautiful collie came rushing up and capered and danced around them both, giving little, short, sharp, playful barks.

"Steady now, King, steady," said the boy. "That's no way to make a noise when there are sick people around. Behave yourself," and patting the dog's silken coat with a hearty thump, he turned to see what he could do for Billy.

The dog reached the goat first and Billy shivered as he felt the dog's muzzle touch him. He jerked his head and began to gather his limbs to get up and defend himself, when the dog whined a little and he felt that the touch was a friendly one.

"Why, you poor goat!" said the boy, as he saw the bruised and bleeding leg. "I wonder how you ever broke such a pretty, fine limb as that. Well, old fellow, if broken bones are all, we can fix those."

He passed his hand gently down Billy's neck to his fore flanks, where it rested for a moment. Billy felt better right away. He liked this young fellow. He had never heard a voice or felt a touch that seemed to do him so much good. A tiny little stream ran across the road not far ahead, and, taking a bright little pail from his cart, the boy ran to this stream and came back with some water. He carefully bathed Billy's leg with his handkerchief and then, wetting the handkerchief thoroughly, he tied it around Billy's leg.

"That will do for a little bit," said the boy, "and now we will just take you right home and fix you up properly."

He stooped down to pick Billy up, and Billy, just as the pony had done to the boy's neck, rested his nose affectionately on the boy's bare arm. They were strong arms, too, and with but very little trouble they lifted Billy up and laid him in the cart on the bed of soft, springy grass, King barking joyous circles around them all the way.

"It's lucky for you, old fellow," said the boy, as he gave Billy a light pat and climbed back to his seat, "that I happened to be out cutting some feed for my pets."

The dog, King, sprang up on the seat beside the boy and sat there looking as grave as an owl.

"Get up, you Dandy!" said the boy.

The saucy little pony stopped to prance for just a minute to show how good he felt, and then away he darted. The road was smooth, the little cart was supplied with good springs and the grass kept off the jar still more, so that the ride was a very easy one. Just at the outskirts of the village the boy sprang down again and opened a wide gate. Billy raised up his head a little to look after this splendid fellow. He wore a gray sweater, a pair of overalls, and a straw hat, and he was in his bare feet. His nose tilted up a little at the end and his face was all covered with freckles, but he was tall and straight, his yellow hair curled from under his hat and his blue eyes were bright and kind, and Billy thought he had never seen any human being in this world so fine and handsome. As soon as the gate was opened, the busy little pony darted through it and, without a word from the boy, stopped until his driver could close the gate and take his place again. Two other dogs came running down to meet them.

"Hello, Curly! Hello, Spot!" called the boy, and he patted each of the dogs on the head before he climbed back up on his seat and took the reins.

Back a little way from the road sat a small, white house with green vines and bright red flowers clambering all over the wide front porch. The ground in front of the house was glowing with flower beds; everything looked neat and clean, and as if happy, contented people lived there. The road from the gate led right past this house, and back by the kitchen the boy stopped with a "Whoa!" A pleasant looking woman came out of the kitchen door, and in her hands she held up a cooky.

"Just out of the oven, Bobby boy," she said, and came up to the wagon to hand it to him. He reached down and patted her cheek and with the same hand took the hot cooky.

"Look in the wagon, mother," he said smiling.

"Well, Bob Sanders!" she cried. "Another animal! I don't know what your father will say."

"Oh, but look, mother!" said the boy, turning round to show her. "I picked him up at the side of the road and see, he has broken a leg."

"Oh, the poor goat!" said Mrs. Sanders, her voice as full of sympathy as Bobby's own. Billy liked her voice too. The sound of it seemed to do him good in the same way that Bobby's voice had. "I'll go right in and get him some milk," she added.

"No, I'd rather you wouldn't, mother," said Bobby. "I'll give him a drink of water out at the barn, but I don't want him to eat anything just now. I have got to set that leg and it's likely to be very painful for him. If he ate anything it might make him very sick. After it is all through, I'll make him a little mash and feed it to him."

"All right, Bobby, you know best," said his mother, and she stood there watching them until Bobby and his wagon had disappeared through the gates of the barnyard and behind the barn.

When Bobby jumped out of the wagon, chickens came squawking and running to him, and clustered around his feet so he could hardly walk without stepping on them; down from the gable of the barn whirred some pigeons, which circled about his head and one of them lit on each shoulder, while another one tumbled off in trying to get a foothold. Bobby laughed, and, stooping down, stroked the feathers of some of the chickens and then he reached up and took one of the pigeons in each hand.

"Go, Flash! Go, Rocket," he called, pitching each one of them into the air as he spoke, and after circling about him they flew back to their perch under the eaves of the barn while Bobby unhitched Dandy.

No sooner was that surprising pony unhitched than he ran back to the pump. There was a little water standing in the bucket under the spout, but Dandy upset this at once, and then turned the bucket right side up again with his nose. There was a leather loop nailed firmly to the pump handle and, gripping this with his teeth, Dandy jerked his head up and down until he had pumped a bucket of water, which he drank with great relish. Then he trotted into the barn where Bobby presently carried the goat.

He gave Billy a drink of cool, fresh water and then, after preparing splints and bandages and getting everything ready, he set the broken bone in Billy's leg with cool, firm hands. Poor Billy! It hurt him far worse than it had hurt to break his leg, but after Bobby had put some ointment on the leg and wrapped it up in soft bandages and had bound the stiff boards on it to keep it firm while the bone was healing, it felt a great deal better. Billy's bed was made of some sweet smelling hay right in front of Dandy's stall, just where a cool breeze could blow across him, and after Bobby had gone away, Billy closed his eyes in comfort. Next to being back on Farmer Klausen's farm with his own mother, this was the nicest place he had ever been in his life.

After a long nap, Billy woke up to find Dandy clattering into his stall.

"Whew, but I'm hot!" said Dandy. "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good," said Billy, "only my leg does throb and hurt."

"No doubt," replied Dandy. "I know when Queen had her leg broken she told me how it hurt her. You must get around and see Queen and her babies as soon as you are able, although I expect by that time they will be in here, tumbling around you. They are the cutest little puppies I ever saw in my life."

"I shall be glad to," said Billy, "but just now I'm only thinking about one thing. I'm hungry."

"That's good," laughed Dandy, "you'll get something to eat all right. Nobody stays hungry around here. Bobby will be here with something to eat soon. He's the best boy in the world. As soon as you get well enough, he'll teach you to do tricks."

"Tricks?" said Billy in surprise. "I never heard of them. What are they?"

"Oh, you'll find out," said Dandy. "I can do a few of them myself. I can waltz on my hind legs, and stand on my head, and roll a barrel, and now I'm learning to stand on a globe and roll it backwards and forwards."

"My, but you are smart!" said Billy. "And does he ever whip you if you don't do them right?"

Dandy laughed and tossed his head.

"No indeed!" said he. "Bobby never had a whip in his hand. We're all of us glad to do anything he tells us."

"If you know how, stupid," croaked a new voice, and Billy looked up to see a tame black crow sitting in the window.

"Stupid yourself, Tarwings," said the pony, but it was in a friendly tone.

"You must have good times here," said Billy, sighing as he thought of all the places of trouble he had seen in his travels.

"We do," replied Dandy. "Of course it isn't all play. Now I just came in from hoeing the corn."

"You mean that Bobby hoed the corn while you pulled the hoe," croaked the crow. "Don't mind what he says, Mr. Goat. He'll make you think that he does it all around here," and then, laughing hoarsely, the crow flapped his wings and flew away.

Dandy laughed heartily.

"He thinks he's a great mischief maker, but nobody gets angry at what he says. He doesn't mean a bit of harm by it."

Just then Bobby came in with a pail of warm mash for Billy. The goat hardly knew whether he liked it at the first taste, but as he ate more of it and felt it warming him up inside, he began to realize how good it was, and after he had eaten all that Bobby thought it wise for him to have just then, he lay very contented and lazy while Bobby rubbed Dandy's smooth coat with a cloth.

Later in the evening a pretty, little red and white cow came into the barn and turned into her stall beside Dandy's. She was properly introduced to Billy, and the crow made so much fun of their politeness that he laughed until he fell out of the window, where he lay on the hay with his legs sticking up until he was quite through cackling.

"Yes, I heard all about your case," said Tiny, the cow. "King came out in the pasture to tell me about it. You were very unfortunate, but after all you were very lucky that you got to come here, where nobody ever even gets cross."

A sharp yelp behind her heels made Tiny jump half out of her hide, and then King, laughing at the trick he had played on her, sprang from behind her and over her stall to inquire about Billy. It seemed strange to Billy to have a dog come near him without getting ready for a fight, and he could not get over the surprise of being in a place where everybody seemed to get along so nicely. He could not understand it at all until Bobby came in again, and then he reflected that all these animals were simply trained to the kindness and gentleness that was in their master. Before he went to sleep that night Billy had some more mash and a few tender mustard plants to eat, and he slept like a top until morning.

Those were tiresome days for Billy. He did long to get out and play with the other animals, but he knew that he must first let his leg heal, so he stood it as patiently as he could. Bobby came to see him at least two or three times a day and rebandaged his leg as often as was needed. The leg healed rapidly, and at last Bobby said one morning:

"Well, old fellow, be good two more days to make sure and we'll let you out."

Those were the most welcome words that Billy had heard in a long time, and he licked Bobby's hand for saying them. After Bobby went away he began to wonder how he should put in those two long, long days, but before he had time to fret about it he heard a whole chorus of little yelps, and here came Bobby with King and Queen and half a dozen pretty baby collies.

"Here, old fellow," said Bobby, "I brought you some playmates. Introduce them, King, and amuse our friend Billy all you can." Bobby took Dandy from his stall to hitch him up and go into the village for some lumber, leaving Billy in good company. Such puppies as those were! They nipped at him, they pulled his tail, they clawed his beard, they hung on his horns, they sprawled all over him and came tumbling down on all sides, little, awkward, white and brown bunches of down. There was no chance for Billy to get blue or fretful, for those puppies kept him laughing all the time. Their awkward antics would have made anyone laugh. For the two whole days that Billy had to stay bandaged up for safety's sake, those puppies kept him amused, and when on the third day his splints were taken off and he was allowed to walk out-doors with only a cloth bandage wrapped around his leg, the puppies scampered out after him.

Billy blinked his eyes when he got out-doors again.

My, what a fresh, pretty, green world this was, to be sure! How good it was to be alive! How good it was to be in such a fine home as this!

*CHAPTER XII*

*BILLY EARNS HIS NAME*

The first day Billy was allowed to walk around for only an hour. The second day he was allowed out for two hours, and by the end of that week he was turned loose without a bandage of any sort on his leg, as well as ever. And how he did enjoy his freedom! He had all the chickens to get acquainted with, including the two little black bantam roosters, Spunk and Saucebox, who would jump up on Bobby's finger and crow whenever they were told to do so. A dozen pigeons he had to meet, and four dogs--a pair of pointers, Ponto and Patty, and a pair of greyhounds, Hurricane and Lightning,--none of which had been in the barn to see him while he was sick.

It was while he was meeting all these new friends that he felt something suddenly swoop on his head, just between his horns, while something sharp dug into his hair. The other animals to whom he had been talking began to laugh and a hoarse voice from between his horns joined in the merriment. Then Billy knew that Tarwings was taking one of his surprising ways of saying good morning.

"Of all the animals here you're the only one that hasn't given me a ride," said Tarwings, "and now I think I'll take it. Get up!" He grabbed his beak into the hair on Billy's forehead and spread his jet-black wings.

"Oho!" said Billy, "I'll give you a ride you won't like." So he started forward, but all at once lay down and rolled over. Tarwings was too quick for him, however, for as Billy went over he flew up in the air a foot or two, and as Billy came back on his feet there was the crow again, holding tight with beak and talons, and laughing more than ever. The pony and the cow were both loose in the barnyard and they enjoyed the joke on Billy as much as the dogs or the chickens or pigeons. Billy was the only one in the barnyard who did not seem to see the fun. His next attempt to get rid of Tarwings was to run straight at the fence and butt it, but once more the crow was too quick, and Billy only got a hard bump for his pains, while the crow settled down on his head again.

"You're the best of all," laughed the crow. "You put so much more spirit and spunk into your work. I believe I'll ride with you always after this."

"All right," said Billy, "this time I'll give you a good ride." So Billy began to go in a circle around and around the barnyard. All the time he had his eye on a thick clump of gooseberry bushes over in one corner, and as he ran he gradually widened the circle until one trip was right close up to those bushes. On the next circle, just as he came to them, he suddenly wheeled and dived head first in among them, and this time he caught Jimmy Tarwings. The sharp branches scraped the crow off of Billy's back and mussed up his feathers till he looked as if he had been in a cyclone. The thorns scarcely bothered Billy's tough hide and he quickly made his way out of the bushes, to join his particular friends, Dandy and King. This time it was Billy's laugh.

"Caw, caw!" cried the crow presently, limping out from the bushes. He was a sorry looking sight, but the other animals did not have much pity on him, for he was such a mischief and it was fun to see him caught at his own game, so they simply capered around and laughed at him. Bobby, who had just come out in time to see Billy plunge into the gooseberry bushes, also stopped to laugh, but when the crow flew to him he quit at once, and smoothing down the feathers, examined Tarwing carefully to see whether he had any serious hurt.

"Serves you right, old fellow," said he, holding the bird close up to his cheek. "If you will indulge in rough play, you may expect to get hurt now and then. Come here, Dandy!"

Dandy came running to him and Bobby quickly hitched him up. Bobby was a busy boy and a thrifty one. He had bought an acre of ground just behind the barnyard on credit a long time ago, and had paid for it out of the proceeds of the garden truck which he had raised on it. He sold eggs and chickens in the village and raised squab which he sent to the near-by city. Besides this he sometimes used Dandy and his wagon for light hauling, turning an honest penny wherever he could. As Mr. Sanders ran the mill in the village and was doing very nicely in a business way, Bobby was free to keep all his money for himself and to do with it as he pleased, for he had long ago proved that he could be trusted with money. To-day he had a little hauling to do and he drove Dandy out to the road with a cheery good-bye to his happy barnyard family.

Bobby left the barnyard gate slightly ajar and he had no more than gone when Billy, as full of curiosity as ever, managed to swing the gate and push it wide open, then he darted out followed by all the chickens, which immediately scattered to the flower beds and vegetable garden to scratch and eat the tender leaves.

Mrs. Sanders had just hung out her clothes. Nice white linen always had struck Billy as being a fine thing to chew on. He liked it almost as well as boys and girls do chewing gum. Of course when he saw some hanging down for his especial benefit, it was no more than polite for him to walk up and take a nibble.

Just as he reached up for it, however, Jimmy Tarwings swooped down on Billy's back to give him a scratch with his talons and a nip with his bill, and Billy, not expecting it, of course gave a jump and his head ran right through the neck of one of Mr. Sander's undershirts, where he stuck. Of course Billy struggled to get away and of course Jimmy Tarwings, seeing that Billy was fastened, jumped on his back again and began to claw him with his sharp nails.

"Get up!" croaked Jimmy. "I'm ready for another ride now. Get up, goat!"

Billy ran backwards but the undershirt stuck on his horns and he could not get it off over his head. He ran forward and it stuck on his shoulders. One of the clothes-props came down and the line sank still lower, so that he had a better chance to struggle, which he did. Another clothes-prop came down and now a great many of the nice, white clothes lay dragging on the ground. Billy, goaded on by the crow, gave another terrific lunge, and this time the line came loose at both ends and the whole string of clothes dragged on the ground after the galloping goat, while Jimmy Tarwings spread his wings and shrieked with joy. He was having the ride of his life.

Around the house and past the kitchen Billy tore, scattering chickens right and left and followed by all the dogs, yelping and barking and thinking it the greatest fun that had happened in a long time. Around to the front of the house went the queer procession and straight through Mrs. Sanders' pet geranium bed, all scarlet with beautiful blossoms that Billy's samples of wet clothing mashed down flat.

Mrs. Sanders was just opening the front door to scrub off her porch when she saw her clothes making such a queer trip. Of course she ran out, but just as she stooped to catch the line a flapping sheet whipped around her foot and gave her a jerk that sent her rolling over in the grass, while the rest of the string of clothes swept on over her, some of the wet garments dragging right across her face. She was not hurt a bit and she even had to laugh at what a ridiculous figure she must have cut if anybody had been looking, but nevertheless she took after Billy and her clothes again. Billy, by this time, had made a circle which wiped out a pansy bed and now, frantic to get away from this strange harness and from his tormentor, the crow, he made a dash for the open front door. The line of clothes caught on the front step, but now Billy was going so fast that the undershirt tore and let him kick himself free. Moreover, as it passed on over his back it caught Jimmy Tarwings, and for the second time that morning swept him from Billy's back. This time he was in a worse fix than before, for the wet garment, in springing back, rolled him up in a tight wad and thumped him back on the steps.

Billy dashed straight on toward an open door across the room. He was so confused that he did not see exactly where he was going and did not dodge the center table quite in time. He ran against one leg of it, and over the table went with a crash, throwing a big lamp over and spilling it on the sofa, drenching it with oil and breaking a lot of choice china bric-a-brac that Mrs. Sanders had collected.