Kitabı oku: «Great Hike: or, The Pride of the Khaki Troop», sayfa 7
CHAPTER XIII.
FRIENDS IN TIME OF NEED
A nervous hand gripped the sleeve of Elmer's jacket.
Nat was trembling with suspense; and doubtless Toby, on the other hand, was almost as badly off. Elmer had come to a halt as the sound of that voice reached them; but it was for only a fraction of a minute. He knew that it was policy on their part to creep up, foot by foot; because, when Lil Artha wanted help he would need it in a hurry. If they were too far away perhaps those energetic Fairfield plotters might be able to throw the tall lad into the car, and start going; when, as Nat might have expressed it, "the fat would be in the fire."
"Why, hello! Who's that?" they heard Lil Artha reply, in the most natural tone any fellow could display.
Of course he ought to show surprise at being suddenly hailed from the bushes so far away from home, and by some one familiar with his name.
Evidently the quartette at that came out of hiding and surrounded the tall lad; for his next exclamation seemed to announce this fact.
"Four of you, hey? Well, this is nice of you, boys, to come all this way just to give me a good word of cheer!" he remarked.
"Hold up, don't be in such a hurry to get along, Lil Artha," said one who seemed to be the leader of the lot.
"But how do I know how close some other fellow may be on my heels!" remarked the tall lad; although he evidently did not make any further attempt to brush past them.
"Say, that's just it!" declared the unknown, who, no doubt, had his hat pulled down over his face, and depended on this, as well as the gathering gloom of approaching night, to conceal his identity. "There is a Fairfield fellow hot on your trail, and he's bound to beat you out, because he's got his second wind."
"Yes," spoke up another, quickly, chuckling at the same time; "that's what we're bothered about, Lil Artha. We just can't bear the idea of you being beat to a frazzle by Felix Wagner."
"But I don't mean to be, you know, boys," expostulated the tall boy. "Little Falls ain't mor'n nine miles ahead; and if Felix has got his second wind, I'm in the same boat myself. Count on me to get there ahead of him, fellows!"
"But you might have an accident, stub your toe or something like that," declared the leader of the opposition.
"So might Felix," remarked Lil Artha, cheerfully.
"Yes, that's so," came the reply; "but you don't know the luck of that Dutchman. Everything comes his way, Lil Artha."
"Well, this hike won't, bet you a cookey!" remarked the other, stubbornly.
"He's right behind you, and coming like a house afire."
"Then what in the dickens are you keeping me waiting here for?" demanded Lil Artha, indignantly.
"I'll tell you," replied the leader of the four, mysteriously.
"Hurry up, then, and let me go ahead," ordered the tall lad.
"We've been talking it over, you see," began the other.
"It's plain enough that talking is something in your trade," commented Lil Artha, bitterly; and Elmer heard Toby alongside him chuckle softly, as though he might be enjoying these caustic remarks of their tall chum mightily.
"And we've come to a conclusion, Lil Artha," went on the other, as though he was not to be moved by any thrusts from the tongue of the contestant.
"All right. Glad you've come to something. Hurry up and spit it out, and then give me a clear road, won't you?" the one who was being held up remarked, sharply.
"The honor of good old Hickory Ridge is at stake," continued the unknown, in a solemn tone that suggested graveyards and all that sort of thing, Chatz Maxfield would have declared.
"Sure it is, and if you don't let up on this business it'll go aglimmering. I want to walk, I tell you," declared Lil Artha.
"Hold on, now. Easy, Lil Artha. We represent a committee of the Hickory Ridge boys, and have been sent out to make dead sure that you win this big hike; d'ye get on to that, now?"
"Well, it sounds all right, but for the life of me I can't place you among all the fellows I know," returned Lil Artha, suspiciously.
"Never mind about that; it don't cut any figure in the matter at all. Fact is, none of us want you to know us. Then you won't be able to give the game away."
"Game? What's that mean?" demanded the other. "Open up here, and show your hand, won't you?"
"We want to help you on your weary way, Lil Artha."
"With cheery words and all that?" queried the one addressed, with something of a sneer showing in his tone.
"Shucks! Something that counts better than cheery words. We've got a bully old car right here, Lil Artha. You can see it if you look."
"Well, I see it all right," returned the Hickory Ridge scout; "but what's that got to do with a fellow that's on a long walk, and anxious to get to the end of his journey, tell me that?"
"Huh, a heap, Lil Artha; and you must be silly not to see through a grindstone that's got such a big hole in it. What's a car made for, anyway?" demanded the leader of the ambushing party, while his comrades laughed harshly.
"Look here, what're you hinting at?" asked Lil Artha. "You don't want me to get in there with you, I hope?"
"Plenty of room for six, and there's only four along, Lil Artha."
"But I don't need any help that way," protested the tall boy, angrily. "I tell you I'm good for hours of hard grind yet. Not one chance in sixty of me losing out to that Felix Wagner. I don't care what sort of a hustle he's got on him. Just you clear the track, and watch my smoke, that's all."
"But we fellows of Hickory Ridge don't want to take the chances. Here's a bully opening for you to be carried along five miles in as many minutes. Then we'll set you down, and you can finish the hike into Little Falls as fresh as a daisy. You'll do it, Lil Artha, of course you will?"
"Of course I won't, and you hear me warble at that!" roared the tall boy, furiously. "What's more, I don't believe a single one of you live in Hickory Ridge. Just let me strike a match and have a look at your faces. Then perhaps I'll believe you mean honest, even if I can't take up your offer."
There was a slight scuffle at this. Evidently Lil Artha had attempted to put his suggestion into practice; but a ready hand had knocked the match out of his grasp just as he struck it. There was a sudden gleam of light, and then darkness again.
"No, you don't, old fellow," said a voice that was now tinged with anger. "None of that funny business goes with us, does it, boys?"
"Nixey, not this time," replied one.
"Quit kidding, and make him be good," growled another, who plainly had tired of the game as far as it had gone and wanted to be on the move.
"What's this mean?" demanded Lil Artha, just as though he could not as yet get the true facts through his fuddled brain.
"The bird that can sing and won't, must be made to sing, they say," growled the fellow who seemed to take the lead in the abduction game.
"Grab him, boys, and jam him in the car; that's the only way!" burst out a second of the quartette.
"Hold on here, do you know what this means?" asked the one who was being threatened in this fashion. "It's an outrage to stop me like this. And when you say you're from Hickory Ridge, you lie, that's what! You're a bunch of Fairfield cowards, and you're only trying to make me break the rules of the game so that I can't win! I'm on to your dodge, and don't you forget it!"
A series of scornful laughs greeted these words. Evidently the hold-up fellows felt so very sure that they had things in their hands that they could afford to delay a little; just as the cat, not feeling particularly hungry, will play with the mouse that has been maimed.
"Listen to him, will you?" jeered one.
"He's on, all right, fellows," exclaimed another; "he sees through the dodge, does Lil Artha. Oh, ain't it a great thing to be a scout, and use your brains! But all the same, we don't expect to let our big friend have his way, do we, boys?"
Of course they were clustered around the Hickory Ridge scout, cutting off all avenues of escape, even if Lil Artha should conceive the idea of running away.
"Not much, we don't," echoed another.
"Keep your hands off me now, I warn you all!" shouted the tall boy, aggressively; but in reality his words were intended to inform Elmer, Toby and Nat just how far events had progressed, so that they might arrange their movements accordingly.
"Are you going to get aboard?" demanded the leader, harshly.
"You mean of my own free will?" asked Lil Artha, fighting for a little time, so that he could make sure of having his chums come up for the crisis.
"Yes, climb in, Lil Artha!"
"I refuse; and defy the whole bunch of you. I'm going to stick to the rules of the game; and you can't make me change my mind. Bah!" the tall scout shouted.
"Tackle him, and if he fights back, don't be too gentle with the big cub. He's going to be carried five miles and more, whether he wants to go or not!"
As the leader snapped this out there were heard sounds of a scuffle. No need of daylight to tell those who were crouching so close at hand what was taking place.
Grunts and low exclamations told that Lil Artha was doing his level best to resist the onslaught of the four Fairfield rowdies.
Still, the tall scout from the Ridge was only a boy after all; and if those opposed to him were less lengthy, that was no reason they lacked in physical powers. And left to himself, there could have been no doubt in the world but that after a gallant resistance Lil Artha would have found himself bundled into the car, possibly bearing numerous cuts and contusions on his body as mute witnesses to the fight he had put up.
And once they had him in the tonneau, three could hold him tight while the other fellow started the machine. After that it would have been "one, two, three," in the language of Lil Artha himself, so far as his right to claim the prize of the great hike was concerned.
There could be no doubt but that the boy who was thus attacked was following out the suggestions given by his patrol leader. This was made evident by the loud cries of the fellow whose voice proclaimed him as being the leader of the attacking squad.
"Pull him off, there, can't you?" he yelled. "He's hugging me like fun, and got his long arms twisted around my neck. Hi, there! somebody give him a jerk before he chokes me! Knock him in the ribs, and make him let go, fellows!"
Nothing could hold Nat Scott back after that. The sound of battle acted on him just as the smoke of burnt powder is said to affect a horse that is accustomed to the roar of mighty conflict.
Nor did Elmer have the slightest idea of trying to keep either of his chums in restraint longer. The crisis had arrived, and Lil Artha needed their help, lest he be bodily kidnaped and carried away in that car.
So they swiftly bore down upon the scene of the fracas. In the gathering darkness they could just manage to distinguish a group of wildly struggling figures; for Lil Artha had one of the ambushing party in his embrace, and the other three were vainly endeavoring to make him break his hold.
"Remember, one apiece!" Elmer said, as they arrived on the spot.
Up to that second none of the Fairfield fellows had the slightest suspicion that their miserable game had reached a snag. One happened to discover the coming of a single figure, and apparently the only thought that flashed through his mind was that the next nearest contestant had somehow managed to arrive on the spot ahead of scheduled time; for he immediately began to shout aloud:
"Keep your hands off, Felix; this is our job, and you don't want to know anything about it. Go right along the road now, and close your eyes and ears. You've got a snap, and a soft one at that. Here, let go of me, you fool! We're your friends, d'ye hear! Quit it, I tell you! Wow! What's this mean, fellows?" And the one who was making all this outcry suddenly changed his tune from indignation to fright, as he noticed other vigorous forms attacking his companions.
CHAPTER XIV.
HOW THE PLOT FAILED
"Help, help! he's choking me! Pull him off, you fools, can't you?" shouted the valiant leader of the four, who had planned to have all this fun with Lil Artha, and now found that the shoe was on the other foot, since it seemed to be the tall scout who was enjoying a monopoly of the sport.
But instead of his mates obeying, he found that they had suddenly ceased in what efforts they were putting forth. The mystery was not difficult to solve, because every fellow had enough to do defending himself against an assailant who had apparently sprung from the darkness.
It was a lively scene for a short time. The Fairfield fellows understood that in some miserable way their scheme must have become known to the Hickory Ridge scouts. Perhaps they heard Toby call out the name of Elmer when asking what he was to do with the fellow on whose back he had lodged with the tenacity that the Old Man of the Sea exhibited when he refused to let Sinbad the Sailor put him down.
They struggled hard, but it was no longer with the idea of completing their cowardly plan. All thought of carrying Lil Artha off in the car was now abandoned, and each and every Fairfield fellow only considered his individual chances for making what Nat called a "get-away."
Speaking of Nat, that worthy was really and truly happy. Old times had come back again, and once more were his muscles being allowed to play their part in a struggle for the mastery.
He had early picked out the victim whom he felt called upon to punish. If pugnacious Nat could only have had his sweet way about the matter, that party would undoubtedly have been the leader of the four Fairfield schemers; but since Lil Artha already had that worthy "in chancery," as it is called when one gets his opponent's head under his arm and in a position of abject helplessness, Nat had to content himself with selecting a less prominent foeman.
What happened just then and there it would be hardly fair to state, because of the fact that Nat was a scout in good standing. But there were several loud thumps heard, and somebody seemed to pick himself up from the road twice, only to suddenly sit down again, with more grunts and finally decline to get up at all. Upon which Nat danced around him, making threatening gestures, and actually daring the alarmed plotter to try and get on his feet again.
Elmer, on his part, had happened to lay hold of a very slippery customer. The Hickory Ridge scout did not want to hurt the fellow any more than he could help; but at the same time he was bound to do all in his power to hold him; for he meant to take a look at every one of their faces, so that he could tell them again.
Twice the other had come close to slipping out of his clutches, despite the grip Elmer had upon him. The second occasion was when with some sort of movement, which he had possibly practiced until he had it down fine, the boy suddenly drew his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, and was in the act of darting away when Elmer threw out a foot and tripped him.
Again he pounced on the other, and this time managed to get a good grip, so as to be able to exert himself. The consequence was that he spun the Fairfield chap around on his back and was able to place a knee on his chest.
"Now, lie still, you, unless you want to get hurt!" Elmer exclaimed; and being by this time of the opinion that he had run up against a buzz-saw in action, the panting and defeated plotter gave in.
The clamor had for the most part ceased. Only Nat seemed to be doing an Indian war dance around his prostrate foeman and shaking his fist every little while in the fellow's face.
"Don't hit me!" yelled the alarmed one. "I'm all in, don't you see? I cave! I'm a prisoner, and scouts don't dare hit a defenseless fellow, do they?"
"Aw, you make me think of a coward that would hide behind a woman's skirts!" declared Nat, in disgust, because his enjoyment had been so suddenly cut short by the collapse of his opponent. "Why don't you stand up and take your medicine like a little man? Just because I belong to the scouts I ain't allowed to hand you what you'd give me if you had the upper hand. It's tough, that's what."
Possibly Nat might have been tempted beyond his powers of resistance but for the fact of the patrol leader's presence.
"Hold up there, Nat, Toby, Lil Artha!" called out Elmer just then. "How is the world treating you, fellows?"
"All to the good here," chuckled Toby, who was still clinging to the back of his capture and showed no inclination to let go.
"My pig looks like thirty cents!" said the tall scout who, left to himself, had speedily reduced his opponent.
"And mine is on the blink, too," declared Nat.
"Shucks, I ain't had hardly a mite of fun out of it all! He laid down on me, that's what he did, Elmer."
"'Taint so," bawled the fellow, indignantly. "He just went and knocked me down two times, and here he goes now waving his old fist under my nose like he wanted to do it some more. Call him off, Elmer, the game's all up and we cave!"
"All right, boys, glad to hear it," sang out the patrol leader; "but before we let you go we're bound to have a look at every one of your faces, so we can know you again."
There was more or less muttering at this, for the Fairfield boys began to see that they were doubtless in for considerable unenviable publicity on account of the affair. But beggars can seldom be choosers. They found themselves helpless in the hands of their enemies, and must do exactly what they were told.
So Elmer took out his match-safe and prepared to strike a light.
"See if you know the fellow you've got hold of, boys," he called.
Then the little illumination flared up.
"I know this duck all right!" called out Toby. "He's Dick Rawlings who used to play center field on the Fairfield nine."
"And I've got Eddie Johnston, just as I expected!" announced Lil Artha who, it will be remembered, had seized upon the leader of the quartette by whom he had been stopped on the road with the demand that he ride, whether he wanted to do so or not.
"I don't seem to know this cowardly cub," declared Nat, who had lighted a match on his own account, and bent low over his prisoner. "He makes the worst faces you ever saw, just to keep me from knowing him again. Here, stop your throwing your head around that way, or else you'll get burned! Hey! what did I tell you? Got a little dose of it then, did you? And one of your eyebrows singed right off! Well, you will be a beaut for a while now, and I reckon I can put my finger on you any time I want."
"You did that apurpose!" shouted the fellow on the ground, glaring at the grinning Nat. "You just wanted to mark me, that's what!"
"Oh, rats! Close your trap now and see how you can run," laughed Nat, as he took a firm grip on the collar of the other, and started to drag him up off the ground, the fellow whimpering all the while as though he really expected that he was going to be badly treated.
"Who's your bug, Elmer?" cried Lil Artha.
"I think his name is Sandy Coons; anyhow he's got cross-eyes and that ought to mark him, if ever we want to prove that he was here," replied the patrol leader, as he assisted the fellow to get up.
"That's O. K., Elmer," declared Lil Artha. "Sandy Coons has got a pair of the crookedest eyes ever; and if you look close you'll see he's got a notch in his right ear. I remember when he got that, too; a fellow he was with pinned his ear to a tree with an arrow he fired, when they were playing Buffalo Bill's Wild West, and when Sandy tore loose it left a dent. Is it there, Elmer?"
"Sure as you live," laughed the other, as he looked.
"Then we know the whole cahoot of 'em," declared Lil Artha, "And now, please hurry up and get 'em on the jump, Elmer, because it's time I was hiking out again, you understand."
"What're you going to do with us, fellows?" asked the leader, as they were being ranged in line.
"We're going to start you down the road to meet Felix and tell him the game's all up," said Toby, who seemed to believe the Fairfield competitor must be aware of the scheme by means of which he was to be benefited; though Elmer on his part thought better of the rival scout.
"But – our car is here," expostulated one of the prisoners.
"Then come back and get it later on; we don't mean to run away with it. But if you take my advice, you'll cut for home right away, because this thing has gone to the limit. And anyone trying to hamper Lil Artha any further is liable to get himself seriously hurt. Understand that, all?" and Elmer allowed his voice to express the indignation that surged through his soul.
"Aw, let us loose! You know we've thrown up the sponge, and it's to the tall timber for the lot," grumbled the leader.
Nat suddenly made a rapid movement. There was a cry, and then a fellow started at a rapid pace along the road. Nat, unable to hold in any longer, had given his prisoner the start he promised, which, of course, meant a hearty kick.
Elmer let his captive go scot-free, which fact so aroused the indignation of Nat that he darted after the fleeing Sandy Coons, and by rapid work succeeded in placing his number seven in the place where it would do the most good. At least the others judged this from the agonized shriek that floated back to their ears.
Lil Artha was quick to see a good thing and show his appreciation. In his mind imitation was the sincerest flattery; and accordingly the successor in the bully line to Matt Tubbs was heard to loudly declare that he would never, never cease to remember the long-legged scout; but upon hearing the aggressive Nat making in his direction he, too, faded away.
That left only one to be treated, and this the chap whom Toby had been riding as he might a horse. This fellow, understanding that he was in for a good dose of the same kind of medicine, began struggling again, hoping to upset his captor and in some way make off without submitting to that humiliating experience.
It was of no use, however. Lil Artha took hold of him, and then told Toby to let go. There was some little confusion, and then the fellow galloped madly up the road, bellowing as though in pain.
"Did you get him?" asked Toby, eagerly.
"Well, I nearly broke my toe, because you see I'm wearing light walking shoes on this hike. And how about you, Toby?" laughed the tall one.
"Dick Rawlings won't play ball for a little while; till he gets over his limp, anyway," answered the other.
"Field's clear now, Elmer, ain't it?" asked Lil Artha, turning to the patrol leader for further orders.
"Yes, and the sooner you're off again the better, Lil Artha," replied Elmer. "You see, that Felix has been coming along all this while, and perhaps he may be nearer than we think. How is it with you now; ready to put in your best licks on the home stretch?"
"I'm just feeling as fresh as a daisy, Elmer," replied the other. "This little business seems to have given me a new appetite. You watch me just eat up the miles. Nine of 'em, do you say? Shucks, I'll be in Little Falls before two hours!"
"Bully for Lil Artha!" exclaimed Nat, clapping his hands.
"Well, we'll put it out of the power of these fellows to pursue you any farther, by taking their spark plug along. Ten to one they haven't got an extra plug with them. And, Toby, Nat, we mustn't forget that we've got machines a ways back here."
"That's right, Elmer. Do we get a move on us, and go for 'em now?" asked Nat.
Lil Artha had already waved his hand at them, and started off along the road at a stiff pace, which seemed to emphasize the truth of what he had just said about feeling as "fresh as a daisy."
"That's just what we're going to do," replied the other; "so come along boys."
"Gee! I hope we happen to run foul of one of them fellers again," laughed Nat.
"Don't be a hog, Nat," admonished Toby. "You had ought to remember that now you belong to the scouts you've got to be merciful."
"Ain't I?" protested the pugnacious one. "Didn't I just kick that feller with the singed eyebrow, when I might have punched his head? Guess I know my duty, Toby Jones!"
