CHAPTER IX.
NEARING THE CRISIS
A sudden howl arose from Nat in the rear.
Both Elmer and Toby knew what it meant. The tricky wheel of Nat had given signs of balking again, and they must make a stop in order to coax it to be good. Elmer seemed to have a "wheedling" way about him, both the others had confessed, when it came to patching up the peace with a mutinous motor. He seemed just naturally to know how to go about smoothing out difficulties in a way that told of his being a born mechanic, although as yet he had found but few chances to show his skill.
So Elmer, though not without considerable reluctance, threw up his hand as a signal that he meant to stop. Perhaps he might even have thought of leaving Nat, and taking only Toby with him; but after the other had stuck it out so valiantly all this while, it hardly seemed fair to abandon him on such a slight pretext.
So they were soon busy over the refractory motor, Elmer looking into the trouble with his customary skill.
"How many other fellows are there ahead of us?" asked Nat, who was hovering over the one who worked, eager to lend a hand if called upon.
"Quite a bunch," replied Toby. "Let's see, there ought to be Red, Matty, Lil Artha on our side, and from what we know about the Fairfield crowd we've still got to reckon with Henry Cobb and Felix Wagner."
"Just leave out Cobb, boys," remarked Elmer, as he worked rapidly.
"Why?" demanded Toby.
"Oh, he's all in, for a fact!" laughed the other.
"But say, we didn't pass Cobb; unless he was lying in the bushes along the side of the road. How d'ye know he's given up the fight, Elmer?" questioned Toby, bent on finding out.
"I saw him sitting in that number four station, with one of his feet on a chair, and being bound up," replied the scout leader.
"Shucks, you don't say so!" exclaimed Nat. "Whatever in the wide world do you think can have happened to him?"
"Perhaps he's been bit by a mad dog!" suggested Toby.
"Might a' been a rattlesnake; I've heard tell about lots of the critters being found up this way. One man used to hunt 'em just for the skins and the rattlesnake oil he got. Some people say it's mighty fine for rheumatism; and athletes use it a heap. Say, Elmer, what d'ye think?" Nat went on.
"Oh, nothing like all that stuff," chuckled the other. "Henry has just sprained his ankle, I reckon, and is getting it bound up. That eliminates all the Fairfield contestants but one – Felix Wagner."
"And him the most dangerous of the bunch!" muttered Toby.
"How does it come on, Elmer; think you can get it fixed? Gee, I hope so, because I'd sure hate to drop out now!" said Nat.
"It's going to be all right; just give me three minutes more, and I'll have it in shape for a long run," came the reply.
"Oh, that sounds good to me!" declared Nat; "because I do want to be in at the finish"; and secretly behind Elmer's back he doubled up his fist, showed it to Toby and the two conspirators grinned and nodded, as though they had their minds fully made up as to what they meant to do if the chance opened.
Elmer knew what he was saying when he made that promise. By the time the three minutes were up he handed the motorcycle over to its owner.
"There you are, Nat; give the engine a tryout," he said.
And as the other did so, with the result that the explosions started off with a rush such as Nat had not been acquainted with of late, he gave a shout.
"Runs bully, Elmer, you're just a wiz, when it comes to tinkering with things. I bet you the old hippo runs like a scared dog now. Here goes, fellows!"
He jumped for the saddle, almost missed it, and managing to climb on, went along the road furiously, though quickly slackening his speed as Elmer called out.
"How is it?" asked the latter, as he overtook Nat.
"Just oh be joyful, that's what!" answered Nat, who seemed tickled at the way his rackety machine was now behaving. "Why, she answers to the least touch, and is as spry as a young colt. I'm almost afraid she'll take a sudden notion to run away with me yet, Elmer."
"There's Red, boys! He's still hitting up the pace; but it's only grit that carries him on now!" observed Elmer.
Red had always been known as the possessor of a stubborn will. Although he was dragging his feet after him when first the three on motorcycles discovered him, no sooner did he know of their coming than he braced up wonderfully and pretended to be as fresh as in the start.
Again were a few sentences exchanged as they drew past. But Red did not deign to ask how far he was from home. He gave a shout upon hearing that the long-legged Hickory Ridge scout was said to be well in the lead; as though his one thought was to have his troop win out.
"Ambulance be along later, Red!" shouted Nat, who could not resist the chance to get in another little dig; but Red put his hands up to his mouth to serve as a megaphone as he yelled after them:
"Not for me; I'm able to walk back home again, if I want to, understand!"
Now they kept a lookout for Matty, who could not be far beyond. They discovered him bending down at a running stream where he had evidently been slaking his thirst, and perhaps bathing his tired feet, for his shoes were both off.
Again did Elmer give the "high sign," and the others took heed. The three riders jumped to the ground. That clear water looked mighty enticing; and, besides, here was the last fellow whom they might expect to overtake, save Felix and Lil Artha; and a wide gap was believed to exist between them.
"Come on in, fellows, the water's fine," laughed Matty, whose face looked as if he had dipped it partly in the creek, for the dust was washed in streaks; but his smile was just as genial as ever.
The trio soon slaked their thirst.
"Where are we at?" demanded the leader of the Beaver Patrol, who had made a pretty good bid for the prize, considering that he was not gifted with such long legs as the two fellows ahead.
"I think about twenty-nine miles out," Elmer returned.
"And with just two fellows ahead; but I've got a poor chance to overhaul 'em, though I don't give up yet awhile. That's all, ain't it, Elmer, Lil Artha and that muscular Dutchman, Felix Wagner?"
"That's all," nodded Elmer. "Glad to find you so filled with pluck, Matty; though it looks as if Lil Artha would have to carry the colors of Hickory Ridge troop to the scout master of Little Falls."
"How does the game stand; is Felix overhauling our chum?" asked the other, as he started to put on his shoes, making a wry face while doing so, as if his feet might be more or less sore.
"Not that we know of; for at last accounts Lil Artha had a lead of some three miles, and was going strong," Elmer replied.
"Then what in the mischief do you fellows look so serious about, that's what I want to know?" demanded Matty, whose sharp eyes had read something in their manner that told him everything was not as serene as outward conditions would seem to imply.
"Listen, then, and I'll try to tell you as quickly as I can." And saying this, Elmer started to relate how word had come of the detestable scheme engineered by some of the rougher element among the Fairfield boys, looking to rendering Lil Artha ineligible as a contestant, by either coaxing him to ride in their auto, or if he persistently declined, forcing him into doing so.
Matty's indignation was immediate.
"What a lot of scoundrels they are!" he declared, between his set teeth. "If I wasn't a scout right now, d'ye know what I'd say they deserved?"
"Well, never mind," laughed Elmer; "don't commit yourself, Matty. And now, boys, since we've refreshed ourselves, let's be moving. This is probably the last stop we'll make up to the time we overhaul our chum who is so gallantly carrying our colors to victory. Come along, both of you."
Elmer had thought they could spare the few minutes needed to get a drink, and give Matty some hints as to how things stood. The leader of the Beaver Patrol had made such a brave fight of it, in that he had covered nearly thirty miles of territory since morning, that really he deserved to be told.
Fortunately both of the older machines started in decent order. Doubtless Toby and Nat breathed sighs of relief when this fact became evident; for they had been having so much trouble of late that they distrusted the working capacity of the worn-out motors to rise to an occasion.
But everything seemed going along smoothly, and once more the three sped along, passing the fifth station, which was the same Rockledge from whence the news had come concerning Lil Artha some two hours and more before.
"How far d'ye think he could have gone in two hours, Elmer?" asked Toby, who, as usual, was making the leader a pacer for his own progress, as he hung dangerously close at the rear of Elmer's machine.
"Well, if he was fairly fresh Lil Artha might make eight miles, and think little of it," replied the other.
"But he must be tired by now, and say he's made six, wouldn't that about fill the bill, Elmer?"
"We'll call it six, just for fun, and let it go at that. Look out for Felix about this time. He ought to still be half an hour behind the leader."
"Unless the conditions have changed a whole lot, which I don't think has happened," Toby called.
Elmer had even considered dropping off while passing through Rockledge, just to find out when Felix entered his name and time of arrival. But on second thought he decided that it did not matter much anyway; since it was not the persistent work of Felix that bothered them half so much as what the plotters meant to do.
Thirty-two miles' walk was something worth while for boys who had never made any pretense of being skilled pedestrians; and even the slowest in the bunch, George and Angus McDowd, need not be ashamed, after having tramped over twenty miles since sunrise, without any previous experience and no preparation, such as old walkers of the Weston and O'Leary type practice before starting on a long hike.
A short time after leaving Rockledge, they believed that they must have reached the thirty-five-mile stage.
Elmer gave his horn a little toot, that being his way of signaling to his comrades that he had sighted something ahead.
"Is it Felix?" asked Toby, fearful lest the reply might indicate that Lil Artha had fallen back to second in the race, and the sturdy Dutchman beat him out.
"It isn't our chum, anyhow," Elmer answered; "because he lacks half a foot of being as tall. Yes, it must be Felix Wagner."
"He's walking strong, Elmer!" declared Toby, anxiously.
"So is Lil Artha, you'll find," the other flung back.
"Do you think he can be far ahead still?" Toby persisted, just as though the boy in the lead could tell everything.
"I reckon he's holding his own," answered Elmer. "When we last heard he was half an hour to the good. Then we'll likely run across him a few miles farther on."
"Say, it ain't far from dusk now, Elmer!" sang out Nat from the rear.
"Oh, we know that easy enough," called Toby. "Just you keep your machine in good temper, Nat, and everything'll be lovely, with the goose hanging high."
So they flew past the Fairfield walker in rapid style.
After that little exchange of opinions the trio relapsed into silence for a brief time. The motors kept humming away as though out for business, and the regular music that his machine was giving forth seemed especially pleasing to Nat. Why, he was that delighted he could not bear to hush matters in the least by using the muffler! Who cared for the noise anyway; this was no crowded town for the police to interfere.
And now Elmer began to grow anxious. Felix had waved his hand to them in passing, and they had answered in a friendly way, Felix was not supposed to know anything about the mean plan on foot to further his interests at the expense of the one whose fine work entitled him thus far to the lead.
How would they find Lil Artha? Was the pride of the khaki troop holding out all right, or would they discover that he showed signs of weakening when that sturdy and persistent Dutchman in the rear would soon pass him by?
CHAPTER X.
FOUND AT LAST
Elmer was thinking about the car that had started from Fairfield an hour before Toby and Nat learned about the scheme to waylay the leader in the great hike, in case he proved to be a representative of Hickory Ridge, and prevent him from carrying out his intentions not to ride a foot of the way to Little Falls.
It could have easily overtaken Lil Artha long before this. Possibly the four reckless young fellows in the car may have gone on ahead, to pick out a favorable place for the ambush, from which they meant to pounce on the walking Lil Artha and play their mean game.
He was looking on either side of the road as he went, as though the thought had come to him that perhaps he might discover the car in hiding; the plotters having decided to wait until dark before overtaking the leader.
Then another idea flashed across Elmer's mind, and he no longer bothered looking either to the right or the left. Instead his eyes sought the road in front of his motorcycle.
It was now beginning to grow a trifle like twilight. The glowing sun had sunk in the west, and left a legacy of red and gold to paint a few fleecy clouds that hovered there in the heavens.
So it was not as easy as one might wish, to discover signs on the road, especially when going at the pace they held. But here and there the conditions became a little more favorable. Perhaps it was because the trees were farther back, allowing more of that glow from the west to reach them; or else the shading branches had prevented the sun from drying the mud entirely, so that such a broad mark as that made by a poorly inflated automobile tire might be detected.
And this was just what Elmer was looking for. He found it presently, too; and was even able to tell that the car had been going at a pretty good clip in the same direction in which they were even then headed. This he did by noting that the mud had been splashed forward, so that it struck trees ahead of where it had formerly rested on the roadbed. And the distance it had been thrown was proof of considerable speed on the part of the passing car.
So Elmer constantly found his previous experience in following a trail of considerable benefit when filling the position of a scout leader. Little things that others would have neglected to notice, or which, if seen, might be looked upon as mere nothings, assumed an importance in his eyes just as they would to an Indian born to reading signs when following a trail in forest or on the desert.
There was no especial need of shouting all this out for the information of the two fellows following after him. They were quite satisfied to leave the arrangement of things in his hands. All Toby and Nat wanted was a chance to have a say in the wind-up; and if the opportunity arose, to put in a good lick for Hickory Ridge.
All the while Elmer was trying to figure distances. He had taken note of the cyclometer at the time he passed Felix Wagner. It stood at just thirty-five miles then. And if, as they suspected, Lil Artha, the gallant Hickory Ridge representative, was some three or four miles ahead of his closest rival, it was now about time they were sighting the long-legged boy pedestrian.
Indeed, unless they soon came upon him, Elmer would begin to worry, lest those reckless blades in the Fairfield car had declined to wait for darkness to come in order to hide their actions, and had already carried their plan into execution.
It was therefore with a purpose that Elmer shaded his speed down until they were not moving along much more than twice as fast as a walker would go.
"Keep tabs on the road to the left, boys, as we go," he called back.
"What for?" demanded Toby, eager to do whatever the leader wished, and yet not able to see for himself.
"Notice any signs that might stand for a struggle," Elmer went on.
"Good gracious! Elmer, do you think they've jumped Lil Artha already?" demanded Toby; and from the rear Nat called out:
"Didn't you say you thought they'd hold over till it got dark enough so he couldn't recognize 'em, Elmer?"
"That's right, I did; and I still believe so," replied the leader, confidently. "When I ask you to help me look for any signs of a free-for-all scrap, I don't believe we'll find such a thing; but I'm just insuring the correctness of my ideas."
"Oh, that's it, eh?" said Toby; though from the manner in which he uttered the words it could be plainly seen that he failed to fully grasp Elmer's true meaning.
But with three pairs of young eyes on the watch, it was not very likely that anything in the nature of marks indicating a scrimmage would escape. A lot of boys engaged in a wrestling match would be apt to leave many traces on the road; for knowing Lil Artha as they did, the three chums felt sure he could not be hauled into that Fairfield auto without a desperate resistance.
Once Nat sang out something that sounded as though he had made a discovery; and instantly Elmer gave the signal for a stop. With his heart beating like a trip hammer he dropped his machine and hurried back.
"Where is it, Nat?" he asked, eagerly, ready to attempt the reading of such signs as might be found on the dirt of the road.
Nat's eyes opened wide.
"Where's what?" he asked, as if astonished.
"Didn't you sing out that you'd seen something that ought to be investigated?" asked Elmer.
"Why, not that I know of," replied Nat, seeming rather confused.
"But you did call out something?" went on the other, hardly knowing whether to feel provoked or to laugh.
"Sure I did; but it was only to tell you I was feeling as empty as a sugar barrel that's been scraped clean. When do we get a snack, I'd like to know?" Nat replied, rubbing the pit of his stomach as if to indicate its state of emptiness.
"Well, if that ain't the worst cheek I ever struck," growled Toby; "to stop us just when my machine had got into its best stride, and was humming most beautifully!"
"Oh, come off your perch!" cried Nat. "I didn't stop you – never dreamed of such a thing. It was an accident, that's all."
"Never mind," remarked Elmer, as he prepared to mount again. "Not much time lost, and I've made sure that Lil Artha has gone along here, with the car in front of him!"
"What's that?" asked Toby, hardly understanding.
"Why, I've seen a place where our chum's footprint is marked in the tread the automobile tire made in the half-hard mud. That tells as plain as print the car must have passed him back here a little; for if he was not coming after it he could not have stepped in the trail left by the tire," Elmer went on, calmly.
"Oh, yes, I see now what you mean, Elmer; and as sure as you live it's a mighty clever idea. Takes you to think up all those things. That's what you learned when you were out there on the plains, didn't you?" Toby remarked.
"Of course," was all the scout leader replied; but he could not help thinking that in the case of some fellows it would be necessary for them to have about fifty years' experience out West before they could grasp the true meaning of clews and trails and such things.
"Is there any need now for us to look out, and try to find traces of a scrap?" asked Nat, as he balanced his machine and prepared to start.
"You might as well keep it up," came the answer.
"But if those chaps have gone ahead, what's the use?" demanded Nat.
"Because, don't you see," put in Toby, anxious to air his knowledge, "what's going to hinder them lying in wait, and jumping out on Lil Artha. Shall we keep tabs of the left side as before, Elmer?"
"The left – yes; but I imagine we're going to come upon our chum mighty soon now. That track was fresh, and I've an idea it wasn't made more than ten minutes ago, at the most fifteen."
Both the other lads looked admiringly at the one who was able so confidently to say such a positive thing. They could not imagine how it was done; and as their glances met they shook their heads, as though condoling with each other on their mutual ignorance.
Then pop-pop-pop, and they were all off in a line, with Nat, as usual bringing up the rear, and Elmer in the van.
Ahead of them, about half a mile away, there seemed to be some sort of a bend; although the shadows played around the spot so densely that even the sharp eyesight of Elmer failed to make sure just what sort of a curve the road took there.
He had what he called a "hunch" that once around this they would be apt to sight the one in whose fortunes they were so vitally interested. So away they tore, letting the engines out for all they were worth; and Nat, as before, utterly ignoring the fact that he had a muffler connected with his metal steed.
And as Elmer whirled around the curve he looked eagerly ahead. At first he saw nothing save a long stretch of road that seemed to mellow as it dropped a little in the distance. Was it possible that Lil Artha could have passed beyond the extreme limit of observation? If so, then the deduction he had made as to the length of time elapsing since that footprint was made could not have been the true one.
Ah, what was that moving there under the trees about half a mile ahead, and just before the road took its slight downward pitch? Surely he had seen something rise and fall with regularity; and it could hardly be a branch.
The object caught his eye again. It was red, and Elmer suddenly remembered that Lil Artha always made it a point to carry a couple of big red bandana handkerchiefs along with him when about to indulge in any game, whether baseball, football or a fishing excursion that entailed a long walk.
Yes, surely that must be their comrade, who, hearing the familiar explosion of the motorcycle engines, and possibly guessing that some of the Hickory Ridge boys were following on his trail, had stepped aside to let them pass. And that waving of the red flag was not intended as a signal of warning, but simply Lil Artha's method of greeting his mates as they flew by.
He could see the tall figure plainly now, and even note how he carried his khaki jacket over his left arm, as the evening was anything but cool.
And Elmer felt a thrill of satisfaction as he realized that after all their troubles on the way they had finally come to the point where they were about to join forces with the gallant fellow who was on his thirty-sixth mile and still set upon arriving at Little Falls long before dawn closed the contest.
Lil Artha stood at attention. He had recognized in the leading figure the assistant scout master of the troop, and, like a good scout, believed in paying him the respect due his office. Under ordinary circumstances they were chums and ready to indulge in any sort of rough-and-tumble boyish wrestle, but when on duty it must always be a different thing.
So, as his hand came up in the regular scout salute, Lil Artha was surprised to see that the other was bringing his motorcycle to a slow down, as were also those in the rear, whom he now recognized as Toby and Nat.
Apparently, then, they intended to stop and speak with him, perhaps with the idea of giving him fresh courage to plod along over the ten miles or so that still remained between himself and his destination.
Nothing averse to having a little chat with his chums as he walked along, the tall scout stepped out from under the overshadowing branches of the tree.
"Hello, fellows!" he remarked. "Say, this is mighty nice in you, hunting me up just to say howdy and wish me luck. What's the news back along the line?"
"All pins down in this alley but one other besides you, Lil Artha," said Toby, quickly.
"And I bet you I know who that chap is – he comes from Fairfield and his name is Felix Wagner. How'd I get on to that? Why, what's the use of telephones if you don't use 'em? I called up and found out, you see. But don't you worry one minute. Why, I ain't near played out. Fact is, fellows, I'm getting my second wind, and right now I'm good for another thirty without stopping."
"Gee, you are a wonder, all right!" exclaimed Nat, admiringly.
"But listen, Lil Artha," said Elmer as they walked on in company, those who had motorcycles trundling them along; "we've followed you all the way from Hickory Ridge, which we left at four to-day, just to warn you that you're in danger of being kidnaped!"
"What!" exclaimed the tall scout, evidently astounded. "Say that again, won't you, Elmer? Me kidnaped! Say, are you joshing me now or what? Open up and tell me."