“But that’s no excuse for me acting the fool,” Hardaker responded gloomily. “And that’s just what I did, Rhoda--egregious fool, consummate fool, and every other kind of a fool you can think of. Do you think she’ll want to hold me to it?” Rhoda smiled and shook her head. “No, Horace, I don’t. At least, not for very long. She was probably flirting with you just to add to Billy’s punishment. All she’ll want will be to get her own little fun out of it.” Hardaker brightened up. “She--she wouldn’t let me kiss her! So I reckon she wasn’t in earnest.” Rhoda laughed again. “Don’t feel worried about it any more, Horace! It will all blow over in a week.” He looked at her gratefully. As she met his eyes she saw more in them than gratitude. “Rhoda, you’re the best girl out! I wish--” She checked him with a warning hand. “Never mind about that, Horace. Just start Prince up a little faster, for I must get home.” At that moment they came out upon the top of the hill. Below them lay the town, its bowering foliage dashed here and there, like an artist’s palette, with splotches of brilliant color. Winding between hills and fields, the noble river flashed back the morning sun. Involuntarily Hardaker checked the horse, exclaiming, as two river packets came sweeping around a bend below the town. One of them was three or four lengths ahead of the other. “They’re racing, Rhoda! Just look at their speed!” “Oh, Horace! See the flames coming out of their smoke stacks!” “I reckon the firemen are just shoveling in the resin, along with the coal, this time!” “The one ahead is the ‘Ohio Beauty,’ isn’t she?” “Yes, and the other’s the ‘Northern Belle.’ Those two race every chance they get. The ‘Belle’ is trying to get ahead and beat the ‘Beauty’ to the landing, so as to capture all this morning’s business. Look, Rhoda! You can see them turning on the hose around the smoke stacks, to keep the decks from taking fire!” Both the steamboats were tooting their whistles and ringing their bells, the shrill sounds of the one eased a little by the sweet notes of the other. Across the clamor broke faintly the music of the bands stationed on their decks. Horace and Rhoda could see the people on each boat waving hats and handkerchiefs at the other. “See the ‘Belle’ spurt ahead! She’ll get there first yet if the ‘Beauty’ can’t get up a little more steam!” “And she is! Oh, Horace, see how the flames are pouring from her chimneys!” Then, suddenly, the “Beauty” seemed to leap from the water, there was a low, booming roar, and out of a burst of flames and smoke her fragments were scattered upon the bosom of the river. For one instant the two watchers upon the hilltop sat stunned and breathless. Then, “My God!” muttered Hardaker as he leaned to urge the horse forward. “Hurry, Horace!” cried Rhoda. “We must get father,--he’ll want to go at once!”