Hugh would really have been better satisfied if he could have hurried away without seeing K. K.'s mother. He feared that she might delay progress more or less, and at such a time every minute counted.
But at the same time he realized that the poor lady was in a dreadful state of mind. It was necessary then that he try and soothe her anxiety, for, as Horatio knew very well, Hugh Morgan had a way of making other people feel the utmost confidence in him.
"Well, let's see K. K.'s mother, Horatio; but we mustn't waste much time. We'll have to get her permission to run the car. I only hope there's a decent supply of gas aboard, or in the garage."
Accordingly, Horatio led him into another room, where they found Mrs. Kinkaid in a dreadfully nervous condition. She jumped to her feet on discovering that Horatio had another boy with him, and then upon seeing that it was not the one her heart was yearning after she uttered a pitiful wail, and fell back into her chair again.
Hugh wasted no time, but commenced telling her something of what he had heard from Horatio, connected with K. K.'s foolish determination to take in the entire course as though in the race.
"Of a certainty he's fallen and sprained an ankle somewhere along that cross-country road, Mrs. Kinkaid," he ended with. "We mean to gather a few of the fellows, and if you'll give us permission to use your big car we intend to run up there and look that road over from end to end. There is no doubt but what we'll find K. K. and fetch him back with us. So please try and feel that things will turn out all right. Make up your mind we won't come back without him, that's all there is to it."
Somehow the very confidence shown in Hugh's words seemed to pass along to the almost distracted lady. Her eyes lighted up with renewed courage, and she even smiled, though wanly, it must be confessed. But then Hugh was pretty much of a magician in regard to arousing a feeling of hope in the most depressed mind.
"You are a thousand times welcome to the car," she hurriedly assured him; "and anything else you might want. It is dreadfully unfortunate Mr. Kinkaid is away on one of his usual business trips to the west, or he would insist on going with you. But I feel certain, Hugh, you will manage things splendidly, and a mother's prayers will go after you, that you may not only find my boy, but that he may not have been seriously injured."
"Then we'll not linger any longer, ma'am," said Hugh, eager to be on the move.
Horatio wrapped himself up warmly, and the two of them shot out of the door.
"Now, what first, Hugh?"
Hugh seemed to have mapped out a plan of campaign in his mind, for he answered without hesitation.
"We must pick up several of the fellows—Thad for one, then Owen Dugdale would be another good hand at hunting for a lost party; and, well, Julius Hobson for the third. That will make five in all,—enough to search the quarry road from end to end. Besides, we ought to carry several lanterns, because, while there is a moon, I reckon we'll find it far from light along that overgrown trail."
"You just think of everything, Hugh," remarked Horatio, wonderingly.
"Let's get the car, first of all," Hugh continued shrewdly, "because it can save us many steps in picking up the other fellows."
By this time they were at the Kinkaid home. Horatio was well acquainted with the premises, as he had played with K. K. since they were small boys together. Hugh had been told where the key of the garage was hidden, and quickly discovered it hanging on a concealed nail.
"Wait till I throw the switch, and light up," said Horatio, for they had electricity at the Kinkaid place, and, of course, a bulb lighted in the garage was considered much safer than a lantern.
As soon as the illumination came both boys set about examining the big touring car that occupied the garage.
"Bully!" ejaculated Horatio, after making the rounds with suspended breath; "all the tires are as hard as anything. How about the supply of gas, Hugh?" for his companion had occupied himself with making an examination of the tank.
"Plenty to carry us up and back twice over!" cried the delighted Hugh. "This is what I call great luck. I was afraid there would be a tire that needed changing; or else no gasolene at all. K. K. didn't realize how kind he was to himself when he fitted up the old car so handsomely, for some purpose."
"Oh!" chuckled Horatio, "mebbe I know why. You see, there's going to be another barn dance next Tuesday night up at Bailey's, and I think K. K. asked a girl to go with him and Peggy Noland and Owen Dugdale. Yes, he even told me there was still room for two more, if I could coax somebody to keep me company."
Hugh busied himself in starting the car going. He knew considerable about mechanics, as most boys of the present generation do, since automobiles have become so very common. Running it out of the garage Hugh bade Horatio "hop aboard," which that worthy did without a second invitation.
"Better get Thad first of all, I reckon," suggested Hugh, as though he might even have figured out how best to save themselves from any unnecessary delay; "then we can clip around to Julius Hobson's place, and pick up Owen last on our way out of town."
The program suited Horatio first class. Indeed, he had such perfect confidence in Hugh that anything the other said carried conviction along with it. It is a fine thing for any boy to have aroused such a spirit of trust in the minds of his comrades that they look up to him as a sort of natural leader, and obey his slightest wish without hesitation. But Hugh bore his honors with humility, and never attempted to display the attributes of a czar.
Great was the astonishment of Thad Stevens when he found two excited fellows demanding that he bundle up and go with them for a night ride up to the abandoned quarry that had gained such a bad reputation among the country folks residing roundabout.
The story was partly told in rapid-fire style, enough of it, at least, to cause Thad to bounce into his heavy coat, and provide himself with a lantern. He expected to become better informed from time to time as they pushed along the road.
Next came Julius Hobson. They found him at home also, and, of course, he was duly worked up on hearing how poor K. K. had never returned home from his run over the long course of fifteen miles. When he heard that they needed lanterns Julius produced a new electric flashlight which he had received for a birthday present, and Hugh said it would do very well as an additional means of illumination.
Last of all they stopped at the home of Owen Dugdale, the dark-faced lad who lived with his grandfather in a big house, and about whom there had at one time been quite a little halo of mystery hanging. ["The Chums of Scranton High on Deck."]
Again was the main fact mentioned concerning the necessity for a searching party starting forth to find poor K. K. Owen did not have to be urged to join the bunch; indeed, he showed himself eager to accompany them.
"I can fetch a lantern, if you want me to, Hugh," he observed; "and say, do you know I'm of a mind to carry my new shotgun that I had given to me just last month, when Grandfather concluded I was old enough to want to go hunting. If we have to chase all around through that place there's so many queer stories told about we might as well be fixed so as to protect ourselves."
"Huh!" snorted Horatio Juggins, skeptically, "I've always heard that ghosts don't mind ordinary birdshot any more'n an alligator would. But then fetch it along, Owen; it'll no doubt make us feel a little better when we find ourselves up in that terribly lonely tract of country. And who knows but what there might be a stray wildcat abroad in those woods. Such things have been heard of, and I even saw the skin of a whopper shown in the market."
So Owen carried out his design, and when he got aboard the big car he took with him not only a lantern, well filled with oil, but also his brand new twelve-gauge shotgun.
At last they were off. Every fellow felt a peculiar sense of exhilaration that possibly even bordered on anticipation, take possession of him; for the future was there before them all unknown. Who could say what strange adventures might befall them before this undertaking was finished?
Of course they had the headlights turned on at full force, and Hugh at the wheel found no difficulty in keeping the middle of the road. He did not mean to pursue a reckless pace, because, if they met with an accident it would spoil all their plans. Better to go at an ordinary rate of speed, and make haste slowly, so to speak.
Meanwhile there was a clatter of tongues aboard the big car. Julius, Thad and Owen had dozens of pertinent questions ready to fire at Horatio, who was kept busy making illuminating replies. Thus the trio learned how K. K. had unwisely determined to cover the entire course and only whispered his intention to his chum, Horatio, at the same time binding him to silence, for fear lest Mr. Leonard put a damper on his plans by vetoing the scheme in the start.
Then suggestions began to flow like water after a storm. All sorts of possibilities covering such a strange disappearance were advanced. Owen believed that Horatio was not far amiss when he declared there might be something in that ghost business, after all; and that poor K. K. had found it out to his cost; though, beyond this broad statement, Owen declined to commit himself, because he, of course, could not imagine what a genuine ghost would look like, in the daytime at that; or what such an apparition would be likely to do to a boy who had had the ill-luck to fall into its clutches.
A dozen additional ideas were advanced, some of them bordering on the absurd and others really plausible. The unlimited resources of a boy's fertile mind in conjuring up remarkable explanations in a mysterious case like the one now engaging their attention had not yet been reached at the time Hugh suddenly announced they were close to the place where the abandoned quarry road started in from the thoroughfare they were then following.
"We just passed the twin oaks I remember stood alongside the road on the left," he explained, at the same time slowing up considerably; "and they are close to the turning-in place. I noticed them in particular, you see, because I didn't want to lose even three seconds when on the run, in searching for some sign of the spot; though, of course, I could have looked for the marks of our tires left there at the time we came back from our nutting excursion, and went through to the other road. Yes, here we are right now, and I'm going to turn in, boys."
He negotiated the turn without accident, though the branches of the trees did scrape against the sides of the car in a way that made some of the occupants shudder; for already they were beginning to feel a trace of the uneasiness that their gruesome surroundings were apt to arouse within their boyish hearts.
"Hugh, it looks like we mightn't need those lanterns after all," remarked Horatio, after they had gotten well started along the dimly seen quarry road.
Indeed, the brilliant headlights of the big car illuminated a radius of considerable size ahead of them and around. Every tiny twig was thrown out into bold relief, as though a powerful sun had found a way of forcing ingress through the canopy of leafless branches overhead.
"Not just at present, perhaps," replied the driver at the wheel; "but they may come in handy yet. We'll wait and see."
Owen sat beside Hugh, the other three occupying the tonneau of the car. There was abundance of room for all, and some to spare. Owen held his new shotgun in his hands and he kept a close watch upon the road ahead, just as though that idea connected with a ferocious wildcat might have taken hold on his mind, and he believed there was a possibility of such a thing coming to pass.
Hugh drove with exceedingly great care, and made no attempt at speed. Indeed, such a thing was utterly out of the question, with that rough road to follow and the necessity of keeping a constant vigilant outlook, lest they collide with some tree. When the quarry was in full operation automobiles were an unknown luxury; and certainly no provision had ever been made for such a contraption passing along that crooked trail, with its numerous sharp curves intended to avoid natural obstacles. Three separate times already had Hugh brought the car to a full stop, and even caused the engine to cease its throbbing. This was done in order that all of them might strain their hearing, in hopes of catching some faint sound to tell that the missing boy whom they sought was close at hand.
But only disappointment succeeded each attempt to pick up information. They caught the dismal hooting of an owl in some dead tree not far away, but certainly such a doleful sound did not raise their spirits materially. Several times while they were moving along Owen had seen a movement amidst the brush that gave him a little thrill; but the glimpses he obtained of the disappearing animal convinced him in one instance that it was a red fox that scurried off in alarm; while on the second occasion he rather imagined it was only a ring-tailed raccoon scuttling away and badly frightened by the intense white glow that had suddenly penetrated his dark quarters.
If there was a wildcat within twenty miles the spot they certainly never knew of it, because no such beast of prey disclosed its presence to them while they continued on their way.
But then there were plenty of thrills for the boys. Not only did the weird hooting of that horned owl come to make their flesh creep, but now and again they detected strange sounds that may have been caused by limbs of the trees rubbing together in the night breeze, but which had a wonderful resemblance to human groans.
They had been pursuing their way along for some little time without much attempt at conversation; but it is pretty hard for a parcel of boys to remain long silent, no matter what the provocation. And Horatio, for one, felt urged to free his mind of certain fancies that had taken lodging there.
"I say, fellows, doesn't this beat everything you ever saw all hollow?" he went on to say, for there was really no need of their keeping quiet, since they had not started out to steal a march upon any enemy,—only to find poor lost K. K. "Just listen to that awful groaning sound, will you? If I didn't know it was caused by the limbs of trees sawing across each other in the wind I'd think somebody was almost dying."
"At another time I guess we wouldn't bother our heads about such a silly thing," observed Julius Hobson; "but, of course, our minds are full up with what may have happened to our comrade, and all that noise makes us shiver a heap; it's so suggestive, so to speak."
"Oh! what did you think you saw then, Owen?" gasped Horatio, as, chancing to fix his gaze on the other, he noticed him suddenly elevate his gun, as though tempted to shoot the same.
Owen chuckled.
"It was only a frisky rabbit, after all," he announced calmly enough. "I was just covering him to find out how easy I could nail the rascal, if only I was out hunting game instead of a lost boy. And we'd have had rabbit stew at the Dugdale home to-morrow, let me tell you, Horatio, if I'd cared to let fly, for I had him covered handsomely."
"Well, please don't do it in a hurry again, Owen," asked Horatio, settling back once more, and hoping his throbbing heart might not beat so loudly that any of his comrades could hear it pounding against his ribs. "Remember this is no ordinary patch of woods we're in right now. All sorts of stories have been told concerning the country up here; and in passing through after nightfall we're doing what a big bribe couldn't tempt any farmer's help to try. But, Hugh, don't you think we must be getting pretty near that place by this time?"
"Just about two-thirds of the way, Horatio," he was informed. "That leaning tree we passed is exactly three hundred and thirty-seven paces from the place we left the road."
"Well, what do you think of that for looking ahead, fellows!" ejaculated Horatio. "Hugh here took all the trouble to count the steps while passing through, the day he came up to examine the ground. That's what I call preparedness, and I guess it counts in a race, just as much as in getting ready for war."
Hugh laughed as though momentarily amused.
"Well, they're both in the same category, Horatio, if you look at things from the right point of view; rival armies and rival athletes contending for the prize which in both cases would mean victory. Looking ahead is a useful hobby, and it's served me handsomely on many an occasion. I consider no time wasted that is employed to insure success; even if you never need the information you've picked up it adds to your stock of knowledge; and no fellow can have too big a fund of that."
"Then we ought soon to be getting there, at this rate," continued Horatio. "Let's hope nothing happens to our old car. We'd have a jolly walk back to town if we broke down here and couldn't fix things. I'd prefer making a fire and spending the night in the woods to taking such a tramp, which would debar us from all hope of making that big run to-morrow."
"With K. K. out of the game the chances for Scranton High begin to flicker some," admitted Julius. "He was showing unusual stamina right now, and secretly I was backing K. K. to bring home the bacon for our school. Of course, with Hugh and Horatio and 'Just' Smith still in the ring it isn't hopeless by any means; but they do say those Allandale chaps have unearthed several wonders at long-distance running, and they are dying to knock Scranton down this time."
Again Hugh stopped the car and bade the others listen.
"It isn't that I thought I heard anything suspicious, fellows," he went on to explain, when they manifested a certain amount of excitement; "but, on general principles, I think we ought to stop oftener, and find out if there's anything doing."
After testing their combined hearing to the limit, and without any success, Hugh again started up. It was Thad who spoke next, and apparently he had been considering something that he would like to have made clear.
"What if we pass all the way through to the other road, without learning a single thing, Hugh?" he went on to say; "do you mean to give it up, and head for home then and there?"
"Well, I should hope not, Thad!" burst out Horatio; "we're none of us built that way. Because a fellow gets a single knock-down in a fight ought he to throw up the sponge right away, and own himself beaten? Why, we started out to find K. K., and sleep isn't going to visit my eyes this night until we succeed. That's the way I look at it, and I reckon the rest of you are in the same boat."
"If such a thing should happen, Thad," said Hugh, sturdily, "we'll simply turn around and come back again; only, under the new conditions, some of you will have to turn out with the lanterns, and search alongside the road as we go slowly along."
Horatio gave a gasp that was plainly audible.
"Do you really mean, Hugh," he went on to ask, in a voice that trembled more or less despite Horatio's effort to control the same, "that you half expect to find K. K. lying alongside the road, either dead, or else insensible from the pain of his broken leg?"
"Well, I wasn't just thinking things would be as bad as all that," Hugh hastened to say. "What I had in mind was the chance of coming on his footprints, and then trying to follow the same. We could easily tell them, for K. K. had on his running shoes, you remember. By tracking him, step by step, don't you see, we could tell just where he met with his trouble, even find out, perhaps, the nature of his accident, and continue to follow him up."
"That would suit me first rate," said Julius, promptly; "and my fine electric hand-torch might come into play with a vengeance. There's nothing better going for following a trail in the dark, because the light is focussed, you see, on a small compass. Why, you can pick up night-walkers like everything when the fishing season's on, by using a flashlight. I could even find a needle in a haystack, I believe, with one of these jim-dandy contraptions."
"All right, Julius, we'll appoint you head tracker, then," chuckled Horatio. "But, after all, perhaps we'll run across our comrade yet, before we get out of this tangle. We're about to come to the most critical point of the entire trip, remember, for the old quarry is just ahead of us."
Horatio chanced to be on the side of the car toward the quarry. He was not spending nearly so much time now looking ahead, leaving that task to his chums; even while talking he kept his eyes fixed upon the dark expanse that represented the surrounding woods, anticipating catching a glimpse of something, he hardly knew what, at any moment now. Doubtless all those silly yarns retailed by the ignorant gossiping farm-hands in the market-place in Scranton, while they tried to outdo one another in matching fairy stories, must have been circulating through Horatio's brain just then. The heavy atmosphere of the deserted stone quarry, and its lonely surroundings, added to the mysterious disappearance of K. K., combined to make him peculiarly susceptible to such influences as see ghosts in every white object that moves in the darkness.
This being the case with the Juggins boy it was not to be wondered at that there could be traced a vein of actual gratification in his voice when he suddenly electrified his companions by exclaiming:
"Hugh! fellows, I tell you I saw it right then, just as that Swanson farmhand vowed to me he did once on a time this last summer—it was a light, waved up and down, back and forth, and just like they teach you when you join the Signal Corps, and learn how to wigwag with a flag or a lantern. It came from right over yonder, where we all know the old quarry lies! And I'm not fooling, either; cross my heart if I am!"
Everybody was staring hard by the time Horatio finished. Hugh, of course, had immediately stopped the car on the road, so that they were now stationary.
It chanced that the spot was one of few where a glimpse of the quarry could be picked up, as the boys had discovered at the time they passed along this way, when we overtook them on their nutting trip.
Seconds crept past.
Each boy could measure time by the beating of his wildly accelerated heart, and as these were throbbing at the rate of something like a hundred pulsations per minute it can be easily understood that "things were going some," to quote Horatio, when afterwards telling the story.
Then all of them saw what the first discoverer had attempted to describe. They stared as though fascinated. Truly Horatio had said well when he spoke of the odd movements of the mysterious light; for it moved swiftly up and down, then sideways, and in eccentric circles, after which it vanished as suddenly as it had come into being.
Some of the boys sighed, as though being wakened from a dream. Horatio, of course, was full of deepest gratification, since he had detected a skeptical air in the actions of Thad and Owen, which seemed to place him in the light of one who "saw things where none existed."
"There, didn't I tell you?" he exclaimed, triumphantly. "And, say, wasn't that—eh, party, whoever he might be, making some sort of telegraphic signals with his old lantern or torch?"
"Hugh, what do you think?" demanded Thad. "You're up in all that kind of wigwag signal work, and perhaps now you could tell what it means."
"I lost some of it, I'm sorry to say, fellows," observed Hugh, gravely; "but all the same I caught enough to tell me that waving of a light was meant as a signal message, though who sent it, and to whom, is all a mystery."
"But could you make out enough of the message, Hugh, to give you any idea what it stood for?" persisted Thad.
"Yes, I believe I did," the other admitted, solemnly, so that each of his chums bent closer to catch the next words that fell from his lips. "I'm certain it spelled out the word 'help,' for one; and I thought another was 'quick'!"
"Oh! what do you think of that?" gasped Horatio.
"The mystery deepens," added Owen, dramatically, just as he had probably been accustomed to reading in some story of excitement.
"Of course," continued Hugh, immediately, "we've got to take a look around that same old quarry, and see what's going on. Somebody's holding the fort there, even if it is said to be deserted. Who and what he can be, of course, remains to be seen; but I'm not taking a bit of stock in those old wives' yarns about a ghost, remember, Horatio."
"Then we'll have to leave the car on the road, won't we, Hugh, when we tackle this big job?" questioned Owen.
"Of course; and since I marked the best spot where anyone could make their way along to the face of the quarry, we must start up again, and keep moving till we strike that place."
"But, Hugh, do you think the—er—party making those signals with a light could have noticed our illumination, and that message was meant for us?" Horatio went on to ask, solicitously.
"I'm not prepared to say," he was told, "though I don't see how anybody with eyes could miss discovering us coming along. And, besides, the old car makes plenty of noise in the bargain, to attract attention. So it looks as if he did know, and was trying to talk to us."
All this only added to the thrill that was forever passing through each and every member of the night expedition. It would be manifestly impossible to describe their mixed feelings as they advanced slowly along the rough road so long abandoned to nature. A dozen times Horatio believed he heard cries; why, it seemed as though the air must be filled with uncanny sounds, for his lively imagination was working at race-horse speed just then.
The car stopped short.
"Wow! what's happened now, Hugh?" whispered Horatio.
"We've arrived at the getting-out place, that's all," came the steady reply, as the chauffeur caused the engine to cease working and then proceeded to leave his seat, after his companion had jumped out.
The lanterns were now lighted and the electric torch made ready for use. If hands trembled considerably during this operation, causing several matches to be used before the desired results were obtained, could anyone blame Owen and the other possessor of a lantern? It was a most remarkable thing that no one evinced the slightest disposition to stay by the car, and guard it against thieves. It was a case of "follow the leader," and where Hugh went they were all bound to go also. To be honest, the chances were that Horatio, for one, could not have been coaxed to separate himself from the company of his four chums; because there was a great deal of truth in that old maxim, "in union there is strength."
Hugh now led the way. He had been given one of the lanterns with which to light a passage across the heaps of broken stones, earth, and rubbish, cast there at the time in the remote past when the quarry was in full blast, with workmen delving into the hillside, blasting away sections through the use of dynamite or powder, and sending out many wagon-loads of building-stone each of the six working days of the week.
They did not string out in single file, but kept bunched together. Indeed, this came through no accident, but there was a method in their madness; because, you see, no fellow would want to be the hindmost in the file.
Hugh showed a wonderful amount of knowledge of the place, considering that he had never before in his life placed a foot upon the ground and had to depend entirely on his former observations. But he kept on as straight as could be expected, and presently Owen managed to muster up courage enough to say in a low and most carefully guarded tone:
"Hugh, did you take note of theexactspot where the light showed up? I'm asking because you seem to be heading direct for somewhere."
"I believe I know where it was," Hugh told him simply. "You see, I noted several things about the face of the quarry that day we stopped to look it over; and when I saw that dancing trail of fire I figured out that it must be at just such a place, which spot I'm heading for right now. And just as you spoke I had ample proof that I was right in my guess."
"Why, what happened, Hugh?" demanded Horatio eagerly.
"I caught a faint glimpse of light up there," Hugh told him. "I wonder none of the rest of you happened to notice the same. It made me think that some person might be in one of those holes we saw in the face of the wall—caves, the natives call them, Horatio says. As this was somewhat deep only a tiny bit of illumination escaped, and you could just detect that when at a certain angle. Stop short, now, and see for yourselves, for there it is again!"
Thrilled to the bone they stood and gaped. Hugh was pointing with his disengaged hand, half holding the lantern back of him so that its glow might not further interfere with their view.
"You're right, Hugh; that's surely what it is," agreed Thad, almost immediately; and each of the other three went on record with a corresponding affirmative.
"Then the next thing for us to do is to find some way of climbing up to that same fissure," the leader explained, showing that he meant to lose no time in trying to open negotiations with the unknown denizens of the quarry, whose actions were becoming more and more mysterious as time passed.
"Which means that we're going to beard the tiger in his den," quoth Owen, gripping his gun more firmly as he edged a little closer to Hugh; for since he was the only member of the expedition who could be said to possess a weapon it was proper that he should be found in the van at such a crisis.
They walked on, not hastily, and showing no outward sign of the tumult that must have raged in each boyish heart. Now it was no longer possible for them to discern that faint glow; but such a little thing did not daunt them. Hugh had marked well the exact location of their objective point, and Hugh seldom made mistakes, those other confident fellows were telling themselves as they cheerfully trudged along.
The foot of the cliff was at hand. Rains and winds and snow avalanches had, during the years that had passed since the hands of men worked those diggings, served to cut loose great quantities of debris from the face of the height, so that here and there at the foot irregular pyramids of earth and rocks could be seen. Hugh now seemed to have turned his attention from above and was bending half over, as though examining the ground. Owen knew what this meant. The other anticipated finding a track leading directly to the route by means of which that cavern halfway up the cliff might be easiest attained.
And, as often happens, such reasoning proved to be the wisest thing the searchers could have undertaken, for hardly had half a minute elapsed than Hugh was heard to give vent to a low ejaculation of gratification.
No one spoke, but they understood that he had found the trail he was looking for. Indeed, he at once started to move along, still bending over, and holding his lighted lantern low, so that its none too good illumination would best serve him.
Now they reached a sort of strange little gully, where the silt had washed down more heavily during the period of erosion than at any other place. Looking up, the boys could see that it afforded a steep but accessible avenue by means of which an agile person could ascend the otherwise impregnable height towering above their heads.
Hugh halted not, but started up. Owen came close behind him, holding that formidable shotgun so that he could thrust it ahead of his leader should an occasion arise necessitating action. But Hugh had already warned him not to be rash, and under no condition to dream of firing until he himself had given the order.
It was a queer little procession that crept up that steep trail in the gully formed by Nature during the heavy storms of summer and winter. The twin lanterns glimmered and flickered as the night wind puffed the tiny blazes; and ahead of all lay the white glow of the electric hand-torch, showing them how they were now almost at the end of their trail.
Yes, the fissure extended straight into the face of the cliff. Hugh was taking them directly to the place where undoubtedly the mysterious unknown had stood on a sort of rocky platform, and indulged in all those queer telegraphic code motions with a light of some sort.
Hugh led the way straight into the fissure. As they proceeded they could see the light ahead growing stronger. Low sounds, as of voices, also led them onward; and then, upon turning a bend, they came upon a sight that had them all staring with wonder.
It was indeed a cave, and of considerable dimensions. A wild beast would have delighted in such a den in which to hide from the rigors of winter, but to boys accustomed to the luxuries of home life it would doubtless have few attractions, especially after the novelty of camping-out had worn off in a week's time.
It was a fire that burned which gave the light. A pile of dry wood, mostly broken branches of dead trees, showed that the occupant of the cave had laid in a supply against a rainy day.
There, sitting with his back against the wall, was their missing comrade K. K. His face looked unusually white, and bore an expression of acute pain, which, however, he manfully tried from time to time to dismiss by a ghastly grin, altogether assumed, since he certainly was in no mood for laughing.
They could see that his left leg was bandaged in some manner, as though he might have broken the bones, and someone had tried to bind up the limb. Even with that superficial glance Hugh marked the fact that this had been done in a fashion indicating considerable previous experience along such lines.
And then they turned their attention upon the other party, the mysterious one who doubtless had found poor K. K. helpless on the ground and borne him to this cavern in the quarry. He was indeed a wild-looking party, with long, unkempt hair and a sunburnt face in which his glowing eyes were deep-seated. There was that about him to convince Hugh instantly he must be deranged, although just then the man bent over poor K. K. solicitously, and seemed to be tenderly doing something calculated to ease his pain.
Hugh coughed, meaning to draw attention to the fact of their arrival. The man immediately stood up and bent a searching look upon the five lads. Perhaps he had been hearing K. K. tell how some of his chums would certainly be coming to search for him, and, therefore, even though he might wish to remain in his hidden retreat undisturbed, he manifested no hostility toward them, simply folded his arms and, stepping back, watched their approach.
Hugh made gestures to indicate that they were peacefully disposed. In doing so he purposely used the signal code and spelled out the one word, "friend." He saw the wildman's thin face take on a sudden gleam of awakened interest, and he nodded his head in the affirmative, as if to reassure Hugh that they were not unwelcome. From this the boy knew the stranger must at some time have been in the army, and that even while his brain was resting under a cloud he could still send and receive messages such as had been at one time his daily avocation.
They reached the side of their unfortunate companion. He held out a hand to welcome Hugh.
"Oh! I'm mighty glad you've come, fellows, I can tell you," he told them, with a tremor in his voice. "I've had a rotten time of it all around, and suffered terribly. You see, I made a fool of myself, and tripped over a vine, so that I was thrown into a gully, with my left leg under me. Snapped both bones, he says, just above the ankle, and a fine time I've got ahead of me this winter, with no skating, hockey, or anything worth living for. But then it might have been worse, because my neck is worth more to me than my ankle. But now I do hope you can get me home. I never wanted to see home and mother one-half as much as now."
"Yes, we've come in the big car, K. K.," Hugh assured him. "And we'll fetch you home right away. You ought to be looked after by Doctor Wambold; broken bones are not things to be trifled with, and while this party seems to have done the best he could it can only be a makeshift."
"Don't you believe it, Hugh," said the injured boy warmly; "why, he's a regular jim-dandy about such jobs. I bet you he used to be an army surgeon in his younger days, from hints he's let drop. And then he knows the Signal Corps work right off the handle to boot, even if—well, I won't say what I meant to. He's been so kind and considerate to me; my own father couldn't have been more tender. I've guessed the secret of the old haunted quarry, Hugh!" which last he almost whispered in the other's ear.
"Yes, I can say the same," muttered Hugh, "because, as soon as I saw that he was using the regular army code of signals, I remembered about hearing how a certain family over near Hackensack had an uncle who used to be in the Signal Corps and was also later on an army surgeon, but who had suffered a sunstroke, and, well, was said to be a bit queer."
"Yes," whispered K. K., "this is the same party. His name, I remember, was Dr. Coursens, and there was some talk last summer about his having got loose from the house and being drowned, they believed, in the river, though his body was never found. Just to think of it, he's been hiding here ever since, picking up his living almost like a wild animal. Why, right now his clothes are nearly falling off his back, and if he tries to hang out here much longer he'll be frozen to death. But, Hugh, we must let his folks know where he is so they can come after him. I believe, his mind is beginning to get a little clear again, for at times he talks quite reasonably."
This was all mighty interesting to Hugh, and he determined that he would let no grass grow under his feet until he had seen to it that the man with the deranged mind was once more restored to his family. But the first thing to be done was to get poor K. K. safely back home.
So he turned to the man and spoke to him, telling him that they wished to get their comrade to the car, and at the same time thanking him warmly for all he had done. Not a single word in reply did Hugh receive. The man listened and nodded his head, as though he could dimly understand what the boy was saying. Evidently he was in something of a dazed condition, if, as K. K. affirmed, his senses were beginning to assume a normal condition after years of darkness.
It was a terrible job getting K. K. down from that elevated place. The man showed them how best to manage. He seemed really solicitous, and it could be seen that he had taken quite a liking to K. K. during their brief intercourse, since the latter had been found groaning on the ground.
Eventually the level below the cliff was attained. Poor K. K. had groaned many times, hard though he fought to repress the sounds, for it was unavoidable that he should receive many jostlings while being transferred to the lower level.
Then they made their way across the open space, and finally arrived at the waiting car, in which the injured youth was deposited and made as comfortable as the conditions allowed. The deranged man watched all this with a wistful gleam in his eye. He had fled from his kind while still gripped in the darkness of madness, but with the first glimmer of reason being seated once more on its throne he commenced to yearn after human fellowship again.
Since the boys had all taken such a deep-seated interest in the matter it may be proper before the "ghost" of the haunted quarry is dropped altogether from the story to state that the very next morning Hugh went over to Hackensack and electrified the Coursen family with certain remarkable news he brought. It ended in their all starting forth and arriving at the quarry. They found the demented man awaiting their coming as though he had guessed what Hugh had in his mind. More than that he greeted them soberly, and called each member of the family by name, something he had not been able to do since that dark cloud descended upon his mind years back.
There seemed reason to believe that in due time Doctor Coursen might regain his full senses again and spend a few years more with his delighted relatives before the end came.
Hugh, of course, learned all about him and how he had served years in the army, first as a sergeant in the Signal Corps, and later on becoming a surgeon of considerable reputation before the accident in the tropics deprived him of his reason. Perhaps it had been the utterly helpless condition of poor K. K., when he came accidentally upon the injured boy, that had strongly appealed to the surgical spirit that still lay dormant in the brain and fingers of the insane man and which had been the main cause of the light of reason returning—surgery had been his passion, and the familiar work took him back to other days, apparently.
And that very night, when Doctor Cadmus, hastily summoned to the home of Mrs. Kinkaid, examined the work of the deranged dweller of the quarry cave, he had pronounced it simply marvelous the clever way in which the other had set those bones and put a splint on the leg, with such clumsy means for working at hand. He declared he meant to interest himself deeply in the case and see if such a skillful surgeon might not be restored to the world so much in need of his kind, with the terrible war raging on the other side of the Atlantic.
To conclude with this subject, at last accounts Dr. Coursen had so far recovered as to send in his application for a berth in some hospital over in France, where his wonderful knowledge of surgery might prove useful to the countless wounded men at the front. And doubtless ere this reaches the eye of the reader he may be across the Atlantic, serving humanity in the great cause.
Long would those five lads remember that strange expedition up to the haunted quarry, and what a remarkable discovery they made after arriving on the ground. It may be that Horatio, yes, and Julius also, would be less apt to clothe anything along a mysterious nature with ghostly attributes, after learning how common-sense and investigation will, in nearly all cases, turn suspicion into ridicule. But while the country folks, of course, also learned how the phantom of the quarry had turned out to be just a crazy man who had escaped from his confinement at home and gone back to primeval ways of living, few of them would ever muster up the courage to visit the deserted quarry after nightfall. It had too many thrilling associations to please them; and besides, what was the use of going out of their way just to feel the "goose-flesh" creep over their bodies when an owl hooted, or some little forest animal gave a grunt?
K. K., being young and healthy, and attended carefully by good old Doctor Cadmus, was not confined to the house for many weeks. The bones did not require resetting, and rapidly knitted, so that after a while he could walk to and from school with the aid of a crutch; and later this, in turn, gave way to a cane. When February came he even threw this aid aside, and by March was seen taking his part in school rushes, as though he had never been injured at all. But his skates were never once used all winter, nor could he indulge in any sledding, both of which were favorite pleasures with K. K.
On the whole, however, he felt that he had much to be thankful for; and tried not to be too greatly disappointed. But his chums would miss him when the Marathon race was on; because he had been accounted one of the best long-distance runners without exception that Scranton High could boast.
Saturday opened with a promise of fair weather, and thousands of anxious hearts beat high with satisfaction when this important fact became manifest.
Before the morning was half over many strangers were noticed in town, having taken the day off in order to attend the wonderful meet, of which so much had been said. Every boy in Scranton was wild-eyed, and on the run most of the time, trying to be here, there, and in half a dozen places at once, if such a thing were possible.
Indeed, there was so much going on it reminded some people of the famous circus that visited the town two years back, with three separate rings, and something taking place in each at the same time; so that the spectators hardly knew how to take it all in and keep from being cross-eyed.
Out at the athletic grounds there were crowds gathered. Men were working at the fence, while another gang, under the orders of Mr. Leonard, carefully put in place such paraphernalia as would be needed in carrying out the programme. Even the big pole had been well greased for the climbing match; while the hurdles for the obstacle race were ready to be placed in position at the proper time; and a thousand and one other matters engaged the attention of the physical director, who was probably the most industrious man in seven counties that Saturday A.M.
Nor was that all. Some of the would-be contestants, not wholly satisfied with their record for proficiency, and wishing to key themselves up to top-notch speed against the now near hour of trial, were on the ground, and in their working togs. Here a bunch galloped swiftly around the cinder path, with one of their number holding the watch on them to ascertain what time they made. Further along several other fellows were jumping with might and main, and showing either jubilation or deep chagrin as they found themselves able to do a shade better than ever before, or else going backward in their scoring.
Indeed, that was going to be a red-letter day in the lives of all Scranton's young people. They begrudged the passing minutes, because their period of enjoyment would be shortened just so much with the loss of every sixty seconds.
When Hugh came on the grounds, after his trip to Hackensack, and seeing the hermit of the quarry once more safely lodged in the bosom of his delighted family, he had only one regret. This was the fact that poor K. K., whose heart had been so set on carrying the colors of Scranton High to victory in the Marathon race, should be debarred from participating in the same by a cruel fate.
As for himself Hugh was not quite so certain as before that he could accomplish such a thing as getting over those fifteen miles ahead of all competitors. What he had gone through with on the preceding day, coupled with his night journey, and only partial rest, after getting in bed at a late hour, had sapped some of his energy.
But Hugh's grit and determination were just as strong as ever, and he meant to do his level best. If he fell down, why, there were "Just" Smith, and Horatio Juggins, as well as two other Scranton fellows, any one of whom might be the winner. So long as the prize fell to a Scranton High boy, it mattered little who carried off the honors, Hugh felt.
Noon came at last.
Everything was now ready for the opening of the athletic tournament. Chief Wambold kept watch and ward over the grounds, assisted by his entire force of uniformed men. He evidently did not intend that any boy, with a mind that turned to practical joking, should have a chance to exercise his evil propensities unchecked. Should such a thing be attempted the joker would find himself up against a snag immediately; and, as those posters announced, he was going to be harshly dealt with up to the "extreme penalty of the law."
There were hundreds of people on the grounds at noon, which was a pretty good marker for the immense crowds that would soon be heading that way from every point of the compass. Most of these "early birds" were, of course, out-of-town folks, farmers' families that had come in, to market, perhaps, and they stayed over to see the great show, because everybody living for many miles around Scranton had heard about the meet, and and what a wonderful sight it would be, well worth going miles to gaze upon. These thrifty and sensible folks had, in many cases, brought their lunch along with them. Perhaps they disliked the idea of eating in small restaurants, such as Scranton, like most towns, boasted; but, no doubt, the main thing was economy in these times of scanty cash and inflated war prices.
It was well worth watching when they started to open their packages, and spread out the contents on the ground or, as might be, on the benches where they had taken up their positions the better to see what went on. And really it would have made any boy's mouth water to note the immense quantities of home-made pies, doughnuts, fried chicken, and all such good things as were displayed in those farmer's wives lunch packets. At least there must be no sign of hard times when the family went on a picnic, or any other sort of pleasure jaunt.
By then the crowds began to assemble in earnest. Town people, fearing a crush, hastened to leave home with the lunch dishes unwashed, and look for places to sit during the long afternoon. Along the roads every type of car, wagon, carriage, and other styles of equipages began to be seen, all heading toward the center of interest, which was the town of Scranton.
Hundreds came from Allandale; indeed, it might be safe to even say thousands, for in every direction could be seen the colors of Allandale High, just as though each enthusiastic boy and girl had rounded up all their relatives and friends, and induced them to make it a point to travel to the neighboring borough, there to shout and shriek, and in other ways lend encouragement to each Allandale aspirant for athletic honors wherever they showed up.
Belleville, too, must look very much like the "Deserted Village" on this particular afternoon; and, if the amount of business done depended on the few who had remained at home, her merchants would have to stay up until midnight in order to equal their customary Saturday sales.
At half-past twelve the throng had become so dense that Chief Wambold and his men were compelled to enlist the services of a number of willing volunteers who, temporarily decorated with a silver shield, were vested with the authority of regular officers, in order to keep avenues open, and prevent the throng from breaking through the ropes upon the limited field where the athletes expected to compete.
So far as attendance was concerned there was no longer the least doubt but that the meet would prove an abounding success; the rest remained to be proven. But the gathering athletes who began to appear in little knots, coming from the dressing rooms of the building, seemed full of confidence, and answered the loud salutes of a myriad of friends in the crowd with reassuring nods, and gestures calculated to buoy up their hopes.
The programme would be varied. First would come several short sprints between the best runners of hundred-yard distances in the county. These were sure to key up the spectators by their thrilling intensity, as is always the case. Following fast upon these there would be hammer-throwing, and the toss of the discus. Then the programme called for other athletic exhibitions along a line that would lend variety, and enhance the interest, as the different schools struggled for supremacy in the arena provided, spurred on to do their utmost by ringing cheers, and the dearly beloved class songs.
Everybody worth mentioning in Scranton would be there, from Dr. Carmack, the supervising head of the county schools, as well as principal of Scranton High, down the line to the Directors of the Games, the town council, the mayors of the three boroughs, and a whole host of notables besides.
And how the fond eyes of father and mother would follow the movements of John, or Edward, or Philip, as though he might be the only young athlete worth watching in all that animated scene. If he won, they had always known he did not have an equal in his specialty; and should he be so unlucky as to come in at the heels of the pack, why, it was easy to be seen that he had not been given a square deal by some of the rival runners, who persisted in getting in his way, and were probably leagued together to prevent him from carrying off the prize. But no matter, he would always be a hero in the eyes of those who loved him, though he might not decorate the family mantel at home with the prizes he aspired to win.
Hugh had kept fairly quiet after returning from Hackensack, and seeing the hermit once more safe in the charge of his folks. He knew that he must conserve his strength for the great undertaking that confronted him that afternoon. Those who had entered for the long-distance race would not be allowed, of course, to participate in any other event; that had been laid down as law by Mr. Leonard when they entered their names on the list of candidates. They must simply stand around and watch what was going on until the time came for staging the Marathon; when they could take their place in the long string that would await the pistol shot intended to start them on the telling grind.
Horatio and "Just" Smith were on deck, looking fit and eager. Then, too, there was Nick Lang, with a grin on his heavy face every time he glanced toward the other three fellows. It was getting on, and some of the earlier events had already been carried through, amidst great roars of applause as the different prizes went, this one to an Allandale fellow, another to a boy wearing the Belleville High colors; and three in succession to local lads.
"I don't exactly like the way that Nick Lang keeps on laughing to himself every time he looks over in this direction," Horatio was saying to the other two.
"I've noticed the same thing," spoke up "Just" Smith; "and it makes me wonder if the tricky fellow hasn't got some slick game up his sleeve, as usual, looking to giving the rest of us trouble. You notice, don't you, boys, that, look as you will, you can't see anything of either that Tip Slavin, or Leon Disney. Now, when fellows who are as fond of outdoor sports as those two have always been, keep shy when such a great event as this meet is being pulled off, there must be a pretty good reason."
"They may be somewhere in the crowd," Hugh went on to say, "because it'd be impossible for any single fellow to identify all that are in that solid heaving yelling mass of people. Nick believes he has a fair chance of leading the pack, and that makes him feel happy. I heard him say only yesterday that the one fellow he was afraid of in our whole bunch was K. K.; and now that accident has eliminated him, why, naturally, Nick feels more confidence. In imagination he's already receiving the grand Marathon prize, and hearing the crowds yelling themselves hoarse."
"Well," snorted Horatio, gritting his teeth in a way he had when aroused, "if that's what pleases Nick he's got another guess coming; for three of us are also in the game; and he's got to do some mighty tall sprinting in that last half-mile if he expects to win out. Then there are a lot of other fellows in the run who may give him a pain. But, according to the programme, our race comes next after this pole vaulting contest; so, boys, we'd better be moving around, and getting our place in line, according to our several numbers."
It was plainly noticeable how that vast crowd began to stir, and show signs of increased interest when the numerous trim runners entered for the big Marathon started to gather for the preliminary stage of the race.
Each of the many contestants had a large number fastened upon both the front and back of his thin upper garment. By these they might be recognized even at a distance; and many persons carried field or opera glasses of various types just on purpose to make out who each runner was when he came in sight around the bend half a mile away, to open on that last stretch that was likely to see the cruelest work of all, if the competition chanced to be keen.
The boys, as a rule, looked very much like lithe grayhounds, for your natural runner is light of body, and can course along like the wind. Still, this applies more to short-distance sprinters than those whose specialty is endurance in a fifteen- or twenty-mile race.
Several of the fellows were quite muscular in build, and gave evidence of a grim determination such as the bulldog possesses. These chaps might be easily distanced in the start, but they would keep doggedly on, under the spur of the knowledge contained in that old adage that "the race is not always to the swift."
Hugh Morgan was, perhaps, the best built of them all, neither too heavy, nor yet betraying a weakness that would crop out after the first five miles had been covered, as might be the case with the more slender fellows.
They stood in line, listening to the last words of caution delivered by Mr. Hitchens, a former Yale man who had umpired the baseball games the preceding summer in such an impartial manner that everyone had the utmost reliance on his fairness.
He explained to them the simple conditions of the race,—how there must be no fouling of any kind; just how often and where the contestants must register their names in books kept by judges on the course; how each was supposed to give his word of honor not to accept any sort of lift for even a dozen feet; and that the great crowd assembled would be waiting to acclaim the first-comer as the victor in the greatest long-distance race ever attempted by high-school boys, at least in that particular county.
They were allowed a certain latitude as to their methods of running. If any of them could cut across lots, and still cover the entire course, as well as register faithfully wherever required, that was to be their option.
Having finished his little fatherly talk, the referee stepped to one side, and gave the word for the runners to make ready.
Every eye was glued on this or that contestant, according to the humor of the spectator. Each Allandale visitor saw only Allandale in that long line, swaying back and forth a trifle, like a reed shaken in the wind. They could not believe it possible that any other fellow had the slightest chance of coming in ahead of those fleet-footed boys upon whose ability they pinned their full trust.
So it was with the Belleville rooters; while, of course, the natives were certain the prize was already as good as won by Hugh Morgan; or, it might happen to be, Horatio Juggins, "Just" Smith, or possibly Nick Lang, the last-named looking ever so confident, as he leaned over nearly double in his favorite crouch, his fingertips in contact with the ground, and his knees bent.
Then came the sharp report of the pistol.
"They're off!" involuntarily exclaimed a thousand persons in unison, as the line of nimble runners was seen to leap into action, and shoot away with amazing speed.
There were a few little lively brushes in the start, before the runners settled down to real business. Some were immediately left behind, but this fact seemed to give them little concern, for they kept jogging away as though quite happy.
Doubtless, a number had entered with no idea of covering more than a few miles of the long course. They just enjoyed the excitement, and the honor of being able to say they had once run in a fifteen-mile schoolboy Marathon race.
After a bit these novices would drop out, perhaps even hasten back with various clever excuses for giving up; and having gained the cheers of their particular coterie of friends they could don a few more clothes to keep off the chill, and settle back to watch the rest of the entertainment. Their opinion would naturally be much sought after, as to the chances of this or that genuine contestant; which was one of the things they desired.
As it takes considerable time for even fleet-footed runners to go over a fifteen-mile course, the sensible committee, who knew just about how long the crowd would have to wait, had provided plenty of amusement meanwhile.
Interspersed with a number of minor events, such as further sprinting matches for younger entries, and some more pole vaulting, as well as Indian club exhibitions of skill, would come the humorous features of the meet.
These are always popular with the country people; indeed, nearly everybody seems to welcome them as a diversion calculated to raise hearty laughter.
There was also keen competition even in the potato race; and the crowd yelled itself hoarse to see the antics of those who met with all manner of mishaps when engaged in the hurdle, and the obstacle affairs.
The boys who had engaged to try for these prizes seemed to "get their dander up," as some fellow expressed it, and the way they struggled and vied with one another was "equal to a circus with a brass band."
Although mention may not have been made of the fact up to now, the Scranton band was giving of its very best from time to time, and the air throbbed with martial music suitable to a country just then at war with a foreign nation. It was a fair sort of band in the bargain, and well worth listening to; so that the music really added greatly to the enjoyment of the occasion.
When the three-legged race was pulled off the spectators howled their sympathy with this or that pair of contestants as they hopped along, now rolling on the ground while bound together, and, at times, even trying to creep in desperation, when it seemed as though a difference of opinions in the two minds trying to control what was just the same as one pair of legs, caused confusion, and a lack of progression.
Later on came the climbing of the greased pole. This is always comical enough, and aroused much enthusiasm. Nobody seems to be a favorite, and each successful attempt to mount is greeted with shrieks of laughter. So long as a valiant fellow is seen to be steadily making his way upwards, inch by inch, he may be applauded; but let him display the slightest hint of having "shot his bolt," and begin to slip back again, howls of derision will greet his ears, so that in confusion he finally gives it up, and retires in haste.
All sorts of small means are resorted to in order to allow the contestant to get a surer grip on the slippery pole; for, up to a certain point, these are allowable. One rubs sand in his hands, and for a brief time this seems to enable him to do splendid work; but then it soon wears away, and then his troubles begin; until, unable to make further progress, he is seen to glance over his shoulder to note how far from the ground he has risen. This is a sure sign of weakening, and, of course, the watchful crowd again roars at him to keep right on, that he's doing nobly, and all that; but John knows better, and so down he comes with a rush, and passes out, shaking his head in disgust and bitter disappointment; for possibly he had been within five feet of the top when his energies failed him.
So the time went on, merrily enough.
Many persons were declaring they had not enjoyed such an afternoon for years, and felt weak from so much laughter.
Watches were being consulted more and more frequently now.
"It's getting time we saw something of those chaps," could be heard here and there, showing that numbers had figured things out, or else received a tip from an authority in the game as to just how long it was likely to take a fleet runner to cover fifteen miles of good road.
Anxious eyes were being strained unduly, watching the bend half a mile beyond. It could be seen from almost any part of the field, fortunately, though once the big board fence was in position, the view would be partly cut off.
It had been arranged, as is always done, that when a runner was sighted nearing the bend a gun would be fired by the sentry on duty there, to attract the attention of the crowd, so that they might have the first glimpse of the leading contestants, as they rounded that abrupt curve where the view was shut off.
There was now nothing going on in the arena, the entire programme having been carried out. Still, few, if any, left their seats, although they had been there for several hours, it might be. The deepest interest centered upon the completion of the Marathon race. In comparison to this exhibition of school-boy endurance and pluck the other affairs seemed to sink into insignificance; although at the time they occurred doubtless those who had friends entered were wildly excited. But then the race that has already been finished is never as intensely interesting as the one in process of being run; just as the fish landed never seems quite so wonderful as the fellow who is still swimming the waters, and eyeing the baited hook as though tempted to take a hazard.
Seconds seemed fraught with undue importance, and many impatient fellows, upon consulting their watches, were seen to hold the same up to their ear, as though to make sure the time-piece had not stopped, so leaden-footed did the minutes seem to move along.
Some of the girls had commenced to sing their class songs, but in a mild sort of way; for they did not wish to lose the sound that would denote that a runner was in sight at the second bend, and could be expected shortly to come into view at the head of the last half-mile strip of road leading to the goal.
Once an engine on the railroad not far away gave a sharp whistle that thrilled everybody, and numberless eyes were glued on the point up the road where the first runner must appear. Then a general laugh ran around because of the false alarm.
But everything must have an end, and that keen anxiety finally met with its reward. Plainly came the heavy boom of the waiting gun. Everyone craned his or her neck to see. Hearts beat quicker with eager anticipation. Which one of the thirty contestants would be the first to appear? There might be several in a bunch, primed for the final sprint for goal. The very thought thrilled hearts, and added color to cheeks, as well as made eyes sparkle with anticipation. Allandale was not cheering now; Belleville rooters were strangely quiet; for, so far, the outcome of the great race was still wrapped in mystery; but the solution would soon come, they knew.
Another heavy boom told that a second runner was just around the bend, and when a third discharge quickly followed the crowd knew there was going to be an exciting finish to the Marathon.
Then a plainly audible sigh broke forth as the first runner was seen rounding the bend, and starting on the home stretch, but wabbling badly as he ran, being almost completely exhausted.