CHAPTER VI.
GETTING IN A RUT.
"GREAT news, fellows!" called Hen Condit, as he gave the salute onseeing that the assistant scout master was with the party onmotorcycles.
"What's that you say, Hen?" shouted Toby, making a flying jump from hissaddle that caused him to land plump on hands and knees before the roadhouse.
"Here, hold on, what d'ye think you're doing, Toby Jones?" called Nat,who was showing a little more deliberation in dismounting. "Guess you'redreaming about aeroplanes and all such tomfoolery. Think you can fly,eh? Well, grow a pair of real wings first!"
Toby's pet hobby lay in the line of aeronautics. He was forever studyingup the mysteries of bird motion, and had the records of all the leadingaeroplane drivers at his finger tips, so that he could tell instantlywhat was the highest point as yet reached by a bird-man; the fastestflight made singly and with a passenger; the longest distance traversedwithout alighting, and lots of other similar facts in which the averageboy might not be greatly interested.
He had several times made a gallant attempt to fly, but thus far themachines he had constructed lacked some essential quality. At any rateToby had suffered pretty much as did the Darius Green of whom we olderfellows used to read in our earlier days; and perhaps can stillremember declaiming the story of a vaulting ambition that took a tumblefrom the old barn roof.
Elmer gained the doorway where Hen Condit, one of the later recruits inthe Hickory Ridge troop, awaited him. Hen had only received his newuniform on the preceding day, and hence he felt as proud as a peacock.His chest had never before been known to have anything like the fineappearance that it now presented. And only that morning his dotingfather had remarked that joining the scouts had done more for the Conditson and heir than years of pleading and scolding had effected, in so faras making him stand up, and throw his shoulders back.
"Now, what's the news, Number Eight?" asked Elmer; for the boy in thedoorway belonged to the Wolf Patrol, though a real tenderfoot, in thathe had only qualified for the lowest rung in the ladder by learning howto tie a number of knots, learning what the requirements of a scoutconsist of, and similar things.
"I just had news from up the road, sir," said Hen, eagerly.
"Good news, or bad?" asked Elmer, just as if his eyes did not tell himthat.
"Fine and dandy, sir," was the reply.
"Of course connected with the advance member of our immortal six?" Elmercontinued.
"Sure." Hen forgot to add the term of respect now, for he was burningwith impatience to disclose his knowledge.
"Where from?" asked the scout leader.
"Rockledge, which is, I find, about thirty-two miles from Hickory Ridgeby the route marked out," answered Hen.
"That's right," muttered Toby, who had the map in his mind prettyaccurately, because he and Nat had often scoured the country when theirmachines were newer and acted more decently.
"What was the report, Number Eight?" Elmer asked.
"One of our boys had just registered there. He was nearly half an hourahead of the next contestant; though that one appeared to be FelixWagner, the smart second baseman of the Fairfield nine!"
Elmer looked sober. He realized that the conditions seemed to bepeculiarly fitted for the carrying out of the scheme which those fourFairfield plotters had arranged, and started up the road some timebefore to execute, if it was necessary, in order to help their man win.
A Hickory Ridge scout half an hour ahead of the fleetest of the rivalorganization! That would mean a Fairfield victory, providing the presentleader could in some way be disqualified.
"Who was the first man?" he asked, feeling pretty confident as to whatthe answer would be.
"Lil Artha! He's doing the Hickory Ridge troop proud this day. We'llforgive a heap in the way of practical jokes if he only comes in awayahead of Felix," Hen observed, with the natural pride boys always takein their home-town doings.
"Hurrah for Lil Artha! Didn't I always say he would show them a cleanpair of heels? Oh, he's a wonder at hiking and running! A three-baggerfor most fellows lets Lil Artha score the circuit. Bully boy, Artha!Yes, we'll forgive everything if only he keeps this up and puts theInjun sign on Fairfield."
Somehow or other it seemed as though most of their concern lay in thepossibility of the rival organization winning the laurels. No matterwhich of the six home scouts came in ahead, if only he could have thelaugh on Fairfield!
"Half an hour ahead, you said, Number Eight?" Elmer pursued, as heturned the matter over in his mind and began to figure as to just howthey should act in order to play the game right.
"That's what I got over the wire. If you want, you can call up Rockledgenow, and perhaps they'll be able to give more information," Hen Conditanswered.
"No need, I reckon. What we want to do now is to get busy," said Elmer.
His eye naturally turned toward the two old machines that were apt toprove so unreliable. And no doubt Elmer was compelled to once moredebate within his mind whether it would be best for him to leave Nat andToby far in the lurch, depending on his single arm to protect Lil Arthaagainst the vandals who would ruin the great hike; or by suiting hispace to their progress, accidents and all, and have comrades to dependon in an emergency.
He quickly made up his mind to stick to them, for a while at least. Ifthings grew to be too bad, he could say good-by and go whirling off atthe rate of forty miles an hour.
Elmer was convinced that the fellows in the Fairfield car would hardlybe likely to start doing things until darkness came. They would not wantLil Artha to see their faces, so that he could recognize them and lateron accuse them when openly denouncing the miserable game.
"Send on the news to headquarters, Number Eight," he said, as heprepared to mount again; a movement that sent both Toby and Nat hurryingtoward their machines, anxious to coax them into a fresh start.
"Shall I tell them that you were along, sir?" asked Hen, making thesalute.
"Why, of course," said Elmer; "because they'll be anxious; you see,there's a nasty plot afoot to kidnap Lil Artha, and make him forfeit hisplace in the race, which would go to the next in line."
"And that happens to be Felix Wagner! Great governor! Now I know why youfellows are hitting up the pace! Give 'em one for me, Toby, won't you?"Hen bellowed after the three scouts; but they must have gone beyondearshot, for at least no one seemed to pay the slightest attention tohis request.
It had been Elmer's first intention to make this trip on his wheel, likethe other inspectors, even though his still sore foot would haverendered this a rather painful undertaking. Perhaps it was the knowledgeof his disability that had caused the owner of the motorcycle to offerit to Elmer. At any rate the patrol leader was very glad to have it,since there was little labor needed in order to cover all the groundnecessary.
Of course there was little chance for the trio of scouts to exchangewords while they were spinning along on their motorcycles. The road wasnot all that could be desired, the heavy rain of the recent storm hadwashed it badly in places, so that they had to keep a sharp lookout forruts.
Possibly there is nothing more exasperating to anyone riding amotorcycle than to find that he is in a deep rut. For a brief time hemay be able to keep his proper balance; but presently he leans a trifletoo much one way, the heavy machine strikes the side of the rut, and asa consequence there is a sudden dismounting; so that he feels himselflucky if he alights anywhere but on his head.
Knowing this, and feeling that the wabbly machines of his comrades weredoubly dangerous under such conditions, Elmer always slowed down when hestruck a poor streak of road.
Even then their advance was not free from thrills. Toby was the first totake a little header, because of thinking he could push through a rutthat somehow seemed to have drawn him as with a magnet, even when he wasfully determined that he would give it a wide berth.
He came down with quite a hard bang; and Nat, hearing the noise, andbeing just a little in advance, tried to twist his head around in order
to discover what had happened to his companion in misfortune, when he,too, turned a complete somersault and landed in the midst of a big clumpof thorny bushes that grew alongside the thoroughfare.
Of course, Elmer immediately stopped, and leaving his motorcycle, ranback to see whether either of them could be seriously hurt. First of allhe laid hold on Nat, who was kicking his legs vigorously in the air, andbleating like a calf. After a little pulling, and working the prisonerof the bush to and fro, he managed to set him free.
"No bones broken, I hope, Nat?" asked Elmer, as the other started todance up and down, rubbing his elbows, his shins, and every part of hisanatomy he could possibly reach.
"Oh, I guess not, Elmer; but ain't I just a sight though?" groaned theother. "My face feels like it was marked with scratches like a map; andhere's a big tear in my trousers. Got a safety pin, Elmer? Oh, dear,won't I look terrible!"
"Don't worry over it so much, Nat. Be a scout and show your grit. Thoseare only little scratches and will be gone in a few days. They'rebleeding some now, of course, and feel bad. Let me wash them with somewater from this brook, to take any poison out. How is it with you,Toby?" and Elmer turned upon the other unfortunate who came limpingalong just then, trundling his heavy motorcycle.
"Nothing much, I reckon, Elmer; got a lump about as big as a pigeon'segg on top of my coco; but this ain't the first time by a long shot.I'll be satisfied if only the upset didn't put my old ice wagon here outof commission." And Toby bent over to test the sparking of his machineafter dropping the rest to the road.
It started off at a rattling pace, which fact seemed to tickle the ownervery much indeed.
"Say, blest if I don't think that tumble must have just knocked it backinto its old shape again!" he exclaimed in glee. "Haven't heard her takethe spark like that for a year and more. Hoopla! Nat, give yours a try.Hope the same good luck fell your way."
However, such was not the case. Indeed, Nat's machine utterly balked,and refused to do anything. Even after Elmer had spent as much asfifteen minutes puttering over it he could not make it behave.
"I'll give it just one more try, Nat," he declared finally, "and then ifit won't work, I'm afraid Toby and myself will have to leave you here.We've just _got_ to get along now, or it'll all be too late."
"That's right, Elmer," declared the scout, manfully. "I'm not the one tokick on account of being sacrificed for the good of the troop. Lil Arthamust be protected against these Fairfield bullies. And if I have to hangout here till after dark, why I'll just feel that I'm doing my littlepart of the work. But I hope you make it this time, Elmer, because I'drather be along with you, and have an active share in the rush."
Once more did Elmer bend down over the motorcycle as it leaned against atree. Two minutes later there suddenly broke forth a rattle of sharpreports and the rear wheel flew around at a dizzy pace.
"Good, good! You did it, Elmer! She's in the running again; and I won'thave to camp out here on the road till some wagon comes along to pick meup." And filled with newborn pleasure, Nat proceeded to execute ahornpipe right then and there.
"Well, get along with you both, then; I'll overtake you in about threeshakes of a lamb's tail," laughed Elmer, as he stepped off along theroad to where he had left his motorcycle.
Ten seconds later the others, just about to start out, heard him callingaloud.
"He says, hurry, Nat," cried Toby, for a little bend in the road hidtheir chum from them; and not waiting to test their machines any furtherthey were off.
They found Elmer running around, with his head bent low, as though hemight be interested in the make of the roadbed.
"What is it, Elmer?" asked Toby, coming to a stop.
"My motorcycle has gone!" was the startling reply the scout leadermade.