TWENTY-SEVEN MILES FROM HICKORY RIDGE AND HOME.
"Lookat the silly guy, will you! Thinks he can run away from a forty-mile-an-hour engine! I like his nerve, now!" exclaimed Nat.
"But Elmer's eating up the distance like fun!" cried Toby, dancing up and down in his great excitement. "Think of my old machine behaving so decent, would you! Why, she runs as smooth as grease—better than when she was new! There! He's closing in on him now like hot cakes. Watch what happens, Nat!"
They stood there in the road, with their eyes glued on the little comedy that was happening not a great distance away.
The tramp knew from the loudness of those rapid-fire explosions that the speeding motorcycle must be rapidly overhauling him. No need to turn his head any longer to size up the situation, which in his mind was becoming acute.
"He's going to skip out!" shrieked Nat, suddenly.
"Sure thing!" echoed Toby. "Look at him dragging his big trilbies along the road to slow up. Hope he don't run slap into a tree though, and bust things higher'n a kite!"
"There he goes! Hoopla!" shouted Nat.
They saw the tattered thief suddenly bring the motorcycle to a stop, or at least what looked like it from a distance. Then he fell over on the ground, and rolled intothe bushes, as if only too anxious to get out of the reach of the owner, before he could lay hands on him.
Elmer shut off power and applied the brake, for he quickly came to a stop close by the spot where his machine lay.
"Chase after him, Elmer! Get him!" yelled Nat, as he and his comrade started to hasten along the road, Nat apparently forgetting that he might as well make use of his machine, if so be it would answer his demand.
But it looked as though wise Elmer saw no reason why he should get mixed up with a rough hobo, simply to satisfy his desire for revenge. He seemed to be bending over the motorcycle, as though investigating the extent of damages it might have sustained in being so hastily dropped on the hard road.
"Here, what's the reason we can't get along in style?" demanded Toby. "Hit up your old ice wagon, and I'll hitch on behind that far."
"Sure thing!" remarked Nat, as if the idea had never once occurred to him, he was so busy thinking of how he would like to lay hands on the thief.
After several attempts the machine decided to be good; and as it started, Toby managed to hang on in some fashion, until presently they arrived on the scene.
Elmer had raised his motorcycle and started the engine going, after dropping the rest at the rear, so that the back wheel could spin in the air.
"Seems to work all right!" declared Toby.
"Glad to say there's been no damage done, except a dent in the gas tank, and that can be easily pounded out later on," Elmer declared, as he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Are we going to let that hobo get off so easy; or do we chase after him?" asked Nat, glaring around at theneighboring woods, in the depths of which no doubt the object of his anger was snugly ensconced, watching to see what they would do.
"No use trying to get hold of him," remarked Elmer. "Forget it, and let's bump along the road. He just saw a chance to steal something that he really had no use for, and couldn't hold back. It's all right now, and no damage done. Get ready to start, fellows!"
In another minute they were speeding away, possibly much to the relief of the concealed tramp, who had begun to fear that he had stirred up a hornet's nest, and was likely to get stung pretty badly.
Ten minutes later, with all three machines humming merrily, they flitted past a roadside tavern.
"See that?" called Elmer over his shoulder to Toby, who was next in line.
"The road house, d'ye mean?" answered the other.
"Second signing station, fourteen miles, about, from Hickory Ridge," Elmer said.
"But you didn't make any move to stop," remarked Toby.
"No need," came the reply. "We wouldn't be apt to pick up any later news than what Hen Condit gave us. And we want to make all the time we can. Been enough delay already."
"But perhaps there won't be any more, from my machine anyhow, Elmer. She's going like a greased pig. That shake-up must have been just what the old buster needed." Toby bawled, knowing to what the other referred when he mentioned hold-ups.
Nat was trailing along in the rear, but coming apparently with no sign of another balk; although doubtless he lived in perpetual fear of something new springing a surpriseon him. A motorcycle, once it gets to acting queer, can establish a reputation for opening up new avenues of trouble second to none.
"Hey, look ahead!" called Toby, presently, after they had covered another long distance of quite a number of miles.
Elmer, upon doing so, discovered that a couple of fellows occupied the middle of the road, and seemed to act as though they meant to stay there, no matter what came along.
As the motorcycle squad rushed toward them, Elmer had no great difficulty in recognizing Landy's cousin, George Robbins, and one of the Fairfield crowd, Angus McDowd.
They had their arms locked, and seemed on the best of terms with the world in general, though their steps had a tottery look, as Nat expressed it.
Finding themselves left far in the rear, these two had apparently made up their minds not to bother about who won the great hike; but to stick to each other, and take things as easy as they could.
Hearing the sputtering of the several machines, they looked back and waved their hands, evidently recognizing Elmer in the lead. Then they stepped to one side of the road so as to let the procession pass.
Elmer threw out his hand so as to warn Toby to slow up, as he meant to do that same, and did not wish to take the chances of being run down.
"How far are we from home?" shouted both the walkers, as Elmer came close.
"About twenty miles," he replied, for he had anticipated such a question, and prepared himself to meet it promptly.
"Is that all?" called Angus McDowd, who looked pretty much "all in."
"What's the news; who's ahead, Elmer?" called George, as the motorcycle passed.
"Lil Artha at last accounts, by a long lead!"
"Bully for Lil Artha!" both trampers shouted; for Angus was so tired himself that he really cared very little who won.
"How far ahead of us, hey?" shouted George.
"Only about thirteen miles, George," answered Toby as he flitted past with a fresh start.
"Oh, won't poor old Landy feel sore when he hears how the hope of the Philander Smiths has gone aglimmering!" mocked Nat, as he, too, went by.
George made a quick motion with his hand as though throwing something at his tormentor; then his care-free laugh floated after them.
About three miles farther along the road they discovered another sight.
"What's going on there?" shouted Toby, who again hung rather dangerously close in the rear of the leader, because he wanted a chance to exchange remarks from time to time.
"Looks like a breakdown, and that's a fact," Elmer replied.
"That's right," called Toby immediately. "It's Tom Cropsey, and he's trying to put a plug in his tire. He's got a puncture, and that ended his run as inspector."
The boy looked up as they drew near, and shook his head even as he grinned.
"All in, I reckon, Elmer, can't seem to fix her!" he called, as the scout leader flashed past.
Possibly he would have been glad if they had stopped in order to assist him repair the obstinate break; but Elmer had other fish to fry just then, and time was too valuableto waste in gaining a recruit who could never keep up with them for even half a mile.
So they presently saw the last of poor Tom, marooned so far away from home, and with night coming on apace.
Elmer knew that they might expect to overtake some of the others at any minute now, and every time he turned a bend he looked closely to see if there were not figures on the road ahead.
Nor was he mistaken.
A few more miles, and he saw a lone pedestrian manfully struggling onward, with a stout stick, which he had stopped to cut, assisting him. At first Elmer thought it was an old man hobbling along, until coming up on the party, the other wheeled.
"Hello, Jack, old fellow! making a game push for it, eh?" called Elmer, who had slowed down considerably, so as to give the contestant acheeryword to encourage him in persisting.
"Wow, but I guess I'm pretty near the limit, Elmer," answered the other, who turned out to be Jack Armitage. "How far have I come since morning, hey?"
"About twenty-four miles," answered Elmer, as he passed.
"Gee, is that all? Thought it was near fifty!" lamented the scout, as he waved his cane at both Toby and Nat as they went by and doubtless cast an envious look at the machines that were carrying them over the ground so easily, while he wascompletelydone up, and ready to cry quits.
"Next!" shouted Nat, who was really enjoying this thing of overhauling the various used-up walkers more than anything that had come his way for a long time; it is always so nice to spin along on a wheel, or a motorcycle,or in a car, andpitythe poor fellows who have to walk!
"Well, there he is, right beyond," said Toby over his shoulder.
"Who under the sun is it?" demanded the rider in the rear, whose view was somewhat obstructed by his companions.
"Blest if I know; looks a little like our Ty Collins!" Toby shot back.
"It is Ty; anybody ought to recognize that old red sweater of his," Elmer announced; "and he's got a fine stone bruise on his foot, if that limp means anything!"
The contestant stepped out of the road as they drew near. He stiffened up to salute, game to the last, and chasing away the look of pain that had been on his boyish face.
One of his shoes was held in his hand, and he had been walking along in this way, determined not to give up until the last gasp.
"Better throw up the sponge, Ty," called Elmer, who had the authority to order anyone out of the race who in his judgment was unfit to continue further.
Ty's face told that he welcomed this command, as it released him from all further responsibility, and he could retire with good grace.
"What'd I better do, Elmer?" he called out.
"Station four just ahead; stay there to-night. Some one come for you in morning!" the scout leader shouted back.
"All right, I will. Hello! Toby, and you ditto, Nat. Who's winning? That fast Fairfield fellow, Wagner, passed me a long time ago, going strong."
"Oh, Lil Artha is miles ahead of him!" replied Nat.
"Hurrah for the pride of Hickory Ridge troop! Bully for Lil Artha!" they heard Jack whoop as they sped onward.
Thus one by one they were fast picking up the contestants who were spread out along the road to Little Falls, covering many miles from the leader to the fellow far in the rear, the Hope of the Philander Smiths.
"There's the other bicycle boy, Phil Dale!" shouted Toby a little later, after they had passed the tavern which had been selected as the fourth station.
"And he's near played out, too. Look at him wabble, would you! Wow, he can't do many more miles at that rate!" Nat yelled.
Elmer gave a salute to warn the rider they were coming and wanted half the road. As he swept past Phil called out something, but Elmer failed to catch what he said, the others also went whooping by, no one having thought to slow down.
And so both inspectors as well as a number of the played-out contestants had been overhauled. They were now fast coming to the point where a crisis would be waiting for them. Twenty-seven miles from Hickory Ridge and evening close at hand, when the miserable plot of the Fairfield schemers could be put into play!
NEARING THE CRISIS.
A suddenhowl 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 isso 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 hedecided 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?
FOUND AT LAST.
Elmerwas 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 werefarther 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 splashedforward, 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 threechums 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 markedin the treadthe 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 comingafterit 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 glancesmet 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 chumsas 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."
THE HOWL OF THE WOLF SIGNAL.
"Well, I like that, now!" burst out Toby. "He thinks we've run all the way from good old Hickory Ridge, thirty-five miles away and more, just to hand him a string."
"And me taking all the dreadful chances of breaking my neck with this cranky machine that's got into its second childhood!" echoed Nat, indignantly.
Elmer paid no attention to these side remarks. He could easily understand just how Lil Artha looked at things. Not having the slightest suspicion concerning any crooked work in connection with the great hike, he could not comprehend what was meant by "kidnaping" him.
"Just what we're here for, old fellow," he remarked. "In the first place, perhaps you know it, and again you may not; but Mr. Garrabrant sent these two good scouts over to Fairfield on their motorcycles to take notes of the start made by the three fellows who meant to compete with us in this event."
"Yes, I knew about that," muttered Lil Artha.
"All right," Elmer continued. "They performed their duties, and then, according to orders, hung around to find out whether there might be any talk about some of those famous tricks that used to be played when Matt Tubbs was running things with a high hand over there."
"But hasn't Matt turned over a new leaf; did Mr. Garrabrant expect that it was all a make believe with him?" asked the other, quickly.
"No," said the scout leader; "so far as we can tell, Matt is in dead earnest about doing the right thing from now on. I reckon he'd be as mad as hops if he heard what some of his old mates have arranged."
"Well, hurry on and tell me, please, Elmer; I'm as curious as any old woman you ever ran across," and Lil Artha laughed as he said this.
"Late in the afternoon they happened to overhear a talk between two Fairfield boys, and then and there learned about the scheme. It seems that four fellows in a car had already been gone an hour. They were to run up to the head of the line, and find out just how things lay. If a Fairfield competitor was running in the lead, of course nothing would happen; but in case it proved to be a Hickory Ridge scoutthey had their orders."
"But see here, Elmer, wouldn't that knock them out of the organization. The rules of the scouts wouldn't stand for such an outrage," protested Lil Artha.
"Hold on, Lil Artha," interrupted Elmer. "You don't seem to get on to the real facts. Nobody said a word about any scouts being connected with this thing."
"Outsiders, then, you mean, Elmer?"
"Yes, some of the crowd that used to run with Matt Tubbs when he was the terror of the county. You know they broke with him at the time he saw a great light. Some of the best in the bunch followed him into the Fairfield troop. Others laughed at the idea of turning over a new leaf. And they say there's a new bully cropped up in Fairfield, a fellow who used to sneeze in the old days every time Matt took snuff."
"Yes," said Lil Artha, "I know—Eddie Johnston; and a bad egg he is, too."
"Well," went on Elmer; "he's engineering this deal.The idea is that these four fellows will try to coax you to enter their ear for a lift, promising that nobody will ever hear about it, you see."
"But they ought to know I'd laugh at 'em. I'm good for the rest of the hike, and could put on fresh speed if I sighted any feller coming along to bother me," the tall scout declared.
"Well, in that case they had orders to jump you, get you in the car by force, and carry you off, to drop you ten miles away, perhaps at Little Falls. In that way, you see, Lil Artha, you would be eliminated from the game, because you hadentered a vehicle, which is against the rules. And the second one in the race would win. That must be Felix Wagner."
"Does he know about this?" demanded the excited scout, frowning.
"Of course," answered Elmer, "we don't feel sure about it; but the chances are he doesn't. No fellow who has his heart in the true principles the scout movement stands for, could take a hand in such a nasty game. And I'm hoping that if Felix learned what has been done he'd be the very first to declare that he wouldn't accept a tainted title!"
"Good for you, Elmer! I don't know Felix very well myself, but I want to think of him in that way, because he's a fellow scout. But look here. I guess I saw the bunch you speak of pass me by only a little while back."
"Yes, I knew they had gone on ahead, because I saw that in several places your footprint was plainly marked in the tread of the auto tire in the mud," said the scout leader, quietly.
"Well, I declare now, if you don't beat anything in finding out them tricks!" remarked Lil Artha, who frequentlyforgot there was such a thing as grammar in the wide world. "Nobody else'd think of that way. The rest of us have got heaps to learn. But I only saw two fellers in the car, Elmer."
"Oh, well, perhaps the others were hiding low down for a purpose," returned the one who observed things closely and figured out results. "If they all showed themselves you would be apt to know them later when they started in with their rough-house business."
"Then what d'ye think they mean to do?" asked the tall scout, anxiously; at the same time Toby and Nat noticed that his hands were doubling up into fists, as if the old spirit of self-defense had begun to run riot within him.
"They've gone down the road a few miles to some place that looks good to them. Then, I reckon, the bunch will pile out and hide till you come along. And while they're about it, they may disguise their faces in some way with handkerchiefs. When fellows are in for something that won't bear the light of day, they nearly always do that, don't you know, Lil Artha?"
"Sure I do," nodded the tall scout, promptly. "More'n a few times I've done the same myself, and so has Toby here. But all the same it's a mean dodge to try and cheat me out of my honest dues. What're we goin' to do about it, Elmer?"
"It stands to reason that we don't mean to let the game go through," replied the one addressed, frowning. "I'm as much opposed to violence as any fellow could be; but there may come times when even the scout is justified in using his fists. Mr. Garrabrant says so; and if he was here, even if he is a man of peace, he'd say the same."
"That's right Elmer; I've heard him say that myself, and he'd laugh right out when he declared that he wasa man of peace, and that he was bound to have peace even if he had to fight to get it," chuckled Toby.
"All right," snapped Elmer. "We must remember that we're up against a condition that can only be met by standing up for our rights. If those four rascals from Fairfield tried to push Lil Artha into their car against his will, he'd be justified in kicking and striking out in defense of his liberty, wouldn't he, scout law or not? And on the same ground, we, as his comrades, have the right to defend him."
"And by ginger we will!" burst out Toby, triumphantly.
"Make your mind easy on that, Lil Artha," declared Nat; "we haven't run all the way from Hickory Ridge to see our chum badly treated without putting in a few good licks for him. Gee, it will seem like old times! My style is getting rusty, and will need some sandpapering, I guess."
"Of course, talk won't amount to a row of pins," said Elmer.
"Not with that kind of skunks it won't," observed Lil Artha.
"As Mr. Garrabrant isn't here, and I stand in his place, I'll have to try and do what I think he'd commend," Elmer went on.
"About that peace racket, even if you have to fight to get it, eh?" laughed Nat.
"Wait and see," replied the scout leader, nodding his head, and giving the other a significant, look that made Nat's heart glad; for, like Red Huggins, Nat had always had something of a reputation as a fighter, and found it most difficult to repress this pugnacious spirit after he joined the scouts.
"Lay out the programme, Elmer, won't you, please?" begged Lil Artha.
"Yes, tell us just what each fellow must do," added Toby.
"Well, I've been thinking it over as we came along," remarked the one to whom these appeals were addressed; "and this is the plan I settled on as promising the best results. In the first place, as these chaps want darkness before they show their hand, so that Lil Artha won't be apt to recognize them, the chances are they've gone several miles farther on before running the car in among the trees at a likely spot. Do you agree on that, boys?"
"Sounds good to me, Elmer; please go on and roll your hoop," said Nat.
"Beats all how you can hit things so close," remarked Toby; "because, now that you've mentioned it, I c'n see how they'd be apt to do just that very thing."
"I'm agreein' with the rest, so keep moving, Elmer," Lil Artha observed, deeply interested in the results, as he had a right to be.
"Well, then, suppose now we ride on behind Lil Artha for another mile. Then he can hold up when I give a little whistle, or he hears the faint howl of a wolf in the distance. The three of us will then proceed to hide our motorcycles somewhere in the woods, marking the place at the roadside so we can find 'em again easy later on to-night. After that we'll haul upon our chum, and keep a little distance behind him as he tramps on toward Little Falls."
"Bully idea!" declared the object of all this attention, shaking the hand of the one who had suggested it. "And a feller don't have to have more'n two eyes, with a miteof common sense back of 'em, to know what's goin' to happen when the Fairfield bullies jump out on me."
"Whack! whack! that's two down; one with the right, and t'other with the left duke, leaving only two for you three boys," declared Nat, making a violent lunge in either direction, as though getting in trim after these months of idleness, when following the mild paths of peace.
Toby laughed.
"Say, what d'ye suppose we'll be doing all that while?" he demanded. "Don't be so greedy, Nathan. It's one apiece all around. Nothin' could be fairer than that, and I put it up to Elmer here. Who wants to get cheated out of his share, tell me that!"
"I reckon that ought to be understood in the beginning," remarked Elmer, dryly. "Get this notion out of your heads, fellows. All we want is to protect Lil Artha. If talking would do it I'd say leave it to me entirely; but we all know it needs something stronger. So let each fellow try to capture one of the bunch in ambush and hold him. Perhaps they'll skedaddle as soon as they see us coming, and the job will be done without one blow."
"But if they do resist when we're trying to defend our chum, what then?" asked Nat, with the most agonizing appeal in his voice, as though he saw his dearest hopes fading, fading gradually away.
"Oh, that goes without saying," chuckled Elmer. "I don't think there's any real need of my giving you fellows orders along that line, because you know what the only remedy is. Only, please don't forget for one minute that you are scouts, and as such should hold your hand the instant the white flag goes up."
"Sure we will, Elmer, if we see it!" chuckled Nat. "You make me happy again. Gee! I was afraid you might saythat under no circumstances was a poor fellow allowed to defend himself—that, like a lot of old women, all we could do was to grab an enemy and hold on, no matter how he scratched and bit and gouged. It's all right. We've got our orders, fellows. Nuff said."
All this time they had been walking at a rather stiff pace along the road that led in the direction of Little Falls, distant something like nine miles. When Lil Artha had said that he believed he was in possession of his second wind, he evidently knew what he was talking about. At least the others were hard pushed to keep up with the long-legged contestant, hampered as they were by their heavy machines, which had to be trundled along with considerable effort.
"Fall back and mount, fellows," said Elmer; "and you, Lil Artha, keep listening for the signal to wait for us. Only a mile do we dare keep going; to get closer to the place of ambush might betray us, as they would hear the explosions from one of these machines, the muffler of which never works decently. Get that?"
"It's as plain as the nose on my face, and nobody can miss that," replied the other, as he started off along the road.
Elmer cautioned his comrades to make as little racket as possible, and presently they followed on their motorcycles.
About ten minutes later a low, weird sound floated through the air. To most persons it would have meant that some farmer's watchdog was uneasy, and baying at the stars; but Lil Artha knew better.
It was intended for the howl of the wolf, the sign of his patrol!