CHAPTER III.
AS THE CLOCK IN THE TOWER BOOMED SIX
It lacked but ten minutes of six.
The sun had been up for about half an hour and there was every promise of a fine August day. Possibly, before the shades of evening fell, the heat of the dog days might prove more or less exhausting; but at that early hour the outlook was all that could be asked.
Around the old church with the belfry, fully half the young people of Hickory Ridge seemed to have congregated. Girls were there as well as boys; for what with the sisters of the scouts, as well as all the other fellows' sisters, the starting of what promised to be the greatest hike on record among the lads of the new organization was an event that could not be missed.
Of course, besides the six contestants, there were numerous other khaki-clad members of the various patrols. Each fellow was, as a rule, the center of a questioning group and felt compelled to supply all the information in his power.
Mr. Garrabrant, the young man who served so faithfully as scout master to the troop, was talking to the boys who expected to participate in the long tramp. He encouraged them, and at the same time laid down the law in plain language.
No one was to accept any kind of a ride while on the hike; even if only for a short space, it would invalidate all his rights to be considered in the contest. And of course each fellow gave his solemn word of honor to abide faithfully by the rules, a copy of which had been given to him.
The conditions were simple enough; Mr. Garrabrant had arranged with the scout master of the troop of Boy Scouts in Little Falls, and each of the rival contestants was supplied with a letter of greeting, which they were to hand to that gentleman upon arriving at the headquarters in Little Falls. This town being some forty-seven miles away from Hickory Ridge, as the crow flies, it can be seen that a herculean task awaited the boys, in order to cover this distance inside of the twenty-four hours.
What added spice to the game was the fact that it was known there were to be several fellows who meant to leave Fairfield at exactly the same hour, and under similar conditions. And the spirit of Hickory Ridge was aroused in civic pride. They yearned to win out over all competitors, just as they had done in that wonderful baseball game only a short time before.
Elsie Craig, one of the prettiest girls in the whole town, and who was particularly fond of Elmer, waylaid Landy as he was changing his position, meaning, to get closer to the group where the six who had entered for the race were making ready for the start.
"Oh, please wait a couple of minutes, Landy!" she exclaimed, with an entreating smile on her winsome face.
Landy, much as he wanted to get where he could hear the last instructions given to the half dozen scouts before they started, could not resist this plea. Truth to tell, Landy was a little "soft" himself when it came to a certain girl, and Elsie happened to be her chum.
"All right, Elsie," he remarked, as he came to a halt, though looking longingly toward the excited group about Mr. Garrabrant. "What can I do for you?"
"I want to know, that's all. Elmer is so busy he just can't spend one little minute talking to me," she replied with a pout.
"Why, you see, he just has to do his duty as the assistant scout master," declared Landy, actually wincing when the girl rested a hand on one of his sore arms. "But I was at the meeting where all the particulars were decided on, and perhaps I might be able to tell you what you want to know, Elsie."
"First of all, do the boys only walk and not run?" she asked, eagerly.
"This is a hike, and that means a walk, not a Marathon race. So every fellow is put on his honor not to run," replied Landy.
"But I should think Arthur Stansbury had all the advantage, because he can take such big steps," observed the girl, frowning a little, as though Lil Artha had never been a very great favorite of hers.
Landy laughed with the air of one who knows all the ins and outs of walking matches.
"Oh, that's nothing to go by, Elsie," he declared, with a shrug of his shoulders that compelled him to make an immediate grimace, for the muscles were sore. "Why, it often happens that some little runt can outstrip a fellow nearly twice his height. It's endurance that tells in the long run. The boy who can set his teeth together, and fight it out to the bitter end. That's what Mr. Garrabrant says, and all of us athletes understand it."
Elsie smiled, and looked roguishly up and down Landy's plump form when she heard him mention that word so proudly. But then, after that experience when the ladder fell and left him dangling twenty feet from the ground, Landy really believed he deserved to be classed among the strenuous ones, even though it might be in an humble capacity.
"And they have to walk all the way to Little Falls before to-morrow morning; poor fellows, don't I pity them, though!" the girl went on. "Elmer would have been in the game too, only for that ugly thorn in his foot. And don't you think he would surely have won the prize, Landy, if he had competed?"
"Oh, nearly everyone believes that," replied the fat boy, readily; "though to tell the truth, there never has been a hike like this around here before, and we don't just know who's got the Injun sign on the rest of the bunch. Between you and me, Elsie, I'm pinning some faith on George Robbins. You know he's my cousin, and he's got some of the old Philander Smith stock in him. The record of my family is a proud one"; and he drew himself up as he inflated his chest with a pompous air that would have well become the drum major of the town band.
"To be sure, Landy," remarked the little miss, quickly; "and it covers a lot of ground, too. Why, even in history we come across it every now and then. But, Landy, how will it be known that the six contestants keep to the route that has been laid out for them? Some one might look up a map and find a road that would be a short cut. That would be an unfair advantage."
"Sure it would," remarked the boy; "and it was just to prevent knowledge and craft from winning when this was to be a question of speed and endurance, Mr. Garrabrant says, that made the committee insist on stations along the way."
"Stations? Whatever do you mean by that?" Elsie demanded.
"Well, they picked out a number of taverns where one of the scouts who goes on ahead with Mr. Garrabrant will establish a register. In that book every fellow in the great hike is expected to enter his name in his own handwriting, also the time of his arrival and departure."
"Oh, now I understand; and Landy, that is a clever idea!" the girl exclaimed. "But Elmer intends setting out on his wheel later on in the day; will you please tell me what reason there is for that, Landy?"
"Oh, it was arranged by the committee, that's all. Several of the fellows will go from time to time. Sort of keep tabs on the contestants and see how they are getting on. I expected to be chosen to be one of these inspectors, but I had a little accident yesterday that knocked me out. But all the fellows said that the game old Philander Smith spirit cropped out, and that few boys could have held on up in that tree as long as I did."
But if sly Landy expected in this manner to lead the conversation into a personal line, so that he could glorify his own prowess, he made a mistake. Evidently the pretty little miss with the golden locks and the blue eyes had no desire to hear about his wonderful escape.
"How will the six contestants get anything to eat on the way?" she asked.
"Oh, that's left to them," answered the fat boy, frowning with disappointment over the failure of his attempt to rivet her attention on himself. "They can stop and have a meal at any old tavern; but I reckon most of the fellows are wise to the fact that they must lose valuable time that way. I know George has a snack stowed away in his haversack right now. He's on to all the dodges, you know."
"Why, of course he is, because he is your cousin, Landy. But suppose one of the poor fellows breaks down? It's a terrible long trip, and all sorts of things might happen, don't you think?" Elsie continued.
"Not much danger of that, I guess," Landy answered. "You see every one of them had to undergo a physical examination before Mr. Garrabrant would allow them to enter; and they're all as fit as fiddles. Of course we don't expect that after they've put, say twenty miles, behind them they'll be as chipper as they are now. Their feet will drag more or less; but that's where the grit must show."
"They expect to start all at the same time, then?" asked the girl.
"Sure, but after a mile or so they'll be likely to separate. One will believe the pace too warm for the start, and drop back. You know they say it's a bad thing to urge your horse early in a long race. All sorts of ideas will prevail, so that long before the first ten miles have been covered the six boys may be far apart, and each trudging along to suit his ideas."
"How much you know about all these things, Landy!" said Elsie, with a twinkle in her sunny eyes that he failed to catch; for he again stiffened up with that superior air that boys are apt to assume when explaining the science of baseball or some other manly sport to a girl who has never attended a game before.
"Oh, well, we just have to, you see, if we ever expect to make good scouts," he replied, thinking that after all Elsie was even a little prettier than her chum, when she chose to smile on a fellow that way. "And besides, we pick up a lot of information from our scout master, and Elmer, who knows all about woodcraft, because he lived out on the big plains. But it must be getting near time for the start, because they're lining up now. Let's push ahead so we can see what happens."
Despairing of getting away while the persistent little maid continued to seek information, Landy was now hedging, and content to carry her along with him as he pushed through the crowd of talking, laughing spectators.
The clock in the church tower pointed to two minutes of six. And at the first stroke of the hour they were expected to be off.
Six boys stood in line, eager and expectant. Their particular friends called out encouraging words, and there was a perfect babel of confusion about this time. But Mr. Garrabrant anticipating such a happening, had spoken the last words of caution. So that there was now nothing to be done but wait for the loud boom of the big clock in the tower.
"Good luck, Lil Artha!"
"Keep that good left foot of yours going right along, George!"
"Red, we're counting on you to win out, remember!"
"That's Ty Collins on the extreme left; just you watch his smoke!"
"Take it easy, Matty! You know the rules of the game, old fellow!"
"Jack, don't you ever come around again unless you bring that prize with you!"
This last created a roar of laughter, as one of the scouts imitated the voice of a girl whom everyone knew Jack Armitage was sweet on.
One minute of six!
Gradually this clamor died down as the critical minute drew closer and closer. Many eyes were turned upon the big face of the clock on the side of the square tower of the church.
"Ready, all!" they heard Mr. Garrabrant call out.
Then came a deathly silence. Everyone craned his or her neck, and the figures of the six contestants who wore the khaki garments of the Boy Scouts proved to be the hub of all glances.
Some of the boys looked grim and determined; others, like tall Lil Artha, wore confident smiles, as though they believed in their hearts that it would be an easy snap. But all were evidently primed to do their level best, no matter what the final result.
Ah! There was a whirring sound up in the tower. Well did the boys know that the big clock always emitted this seeming gasp just before the striking of the hour. Then came a reverberating boom!
It was time.
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd, as hats and handkerchiefs filled the air; "they're off!"
"And may the best man win!" said the smiling scout master, looking after the fast walking line of contestants.
CHAPTER IV.
SIGNS OF TROUBLE
"Look at 'em all in a bunch!" cried one of the watchers; for the crowd had been particularly requested not to follow the six walkers or annoy them in the start.
"But with Lil Artha at the head!" called another exultantly.
"But they're all keeping up close with him, even if Red does have to cover five steps to three by Lil Artha. It ain't the length of a fellow's legs that counts for everything in a hike, let me tell you!"
"Shucks! Why, Lil Artha is just playing with 'em," laughed another.
"Sure he is; when he feels like it, he'll make a ring around the rest, and then not be pushed!"
"Oh, he will, eh? Shows how much you know about these things. Lil Artha may be due to a little surprise before many hours go past; and it'll be George Robbins who will do it," said Landy, proudly.
"For he has the true Philander Smith grit," sang another; at which there was a shout from the rapidly breaking-up crowd, for this little weakness on the part of the fat boy was pretty generally known.
Presently a turn in the road shut out the walkers. They were all going strong when last seen, and Lil Artha even turned to wave a jaunty farewell to those of his friends who had wished him success in the great hike.
Elmer and the balance of the scouts gathered together to talk over matters connected with the affair. A plan of campaign had been mapped out with almost as much care as if a battle were impending. Indeed, all sorts of road maps had been consulted in laying out the course over which the six contestants were expected to pass. And a copy of the same, as well as the rules governing their actions, had been sent over to the Fairfield troop at the earnest request of the scout master who had lately taken charge there.
The morning began to wear on.
Some of those who had gathered to watch the start had come without waiting for breakfast, though the scouts, as a rule, could not be reckoned in that class, being early risers. And as the hours went by there was always more or less excitement around headquarters.
Several fellows had brought their wheels around. These were the chosen inspectors whose duty it was to sally forth at certain hours when Elmer gave the word, and pick up the several contestants along the way, perhaps telephoning any interesting news connected with them from some convenient inn where the registers were placed.
Mr. Garrabrant and one of the scouts had gone off in an auto long ago. They expected to establish the chosen stations and leave the registers in which each fellow was to enter the time of his coming and going.
At ten o'clock the first scout on a wheel was sent out. Another would follow at twelve, and around four Elmer, as the last inspector, expected to start. He chose to be last because a fellow who owned a motorcycle had loaned it to him for the occasion, and thus he had a big advantage over the others.
When noon came there was a ripple of interest. A scout had come from the store where the telephone station happened to be located, and he brought the first news of the big hike.
All the contestants had made the first station easily, passing within five minutes of each other. And, strange to say, it was Lil Artha whose time seemed to be just at the tail end of the procession. No one could understand it, and all sorts of speculations began to pass current.
"Got a stone in his shoe and bruised his heel!" one suggested.
"More'n likely he's gone and strained a tendon again; remember he did that two years ago when he made the home run that won the game!" another exclaimed.
"Rats!" called out a third, scornfully. "The sly old fox is only doing that for fun. He's playing with the other fellows, believe me. When he gets good and ready he'll pass the bunch, and leave 'em so far behind they'll forget their names. Oh, I know Lil Artha! Why, he even took his little camera along. Said he wanted to snap off a few pictures on the way, just to pass time, when he got too lonesome."
After a hasty lunch the boys again assembled at the church, and if anything, in greater numbers than before; for every fellow in town seemed to be on the spot, anxious to hear what news might come dribbling in.
Two o'clock came, and with it a running scout from the store, where several were stationed in order to be ready to answer the phone.
More news, and of a character to arouse great excitement. At the second station there was a difference of just thirteen minutes between the arrival of the leader and the last contestant. That leader was Lil Artha; and sad to relate, the tail ender trailed the proud banner of the Philander Smiths in the dust, for it was no other than George.
"Told you so!" burst out the fellow who had been so positive about the tall Lil Artha playing tricks. "He's starting now; and by night time he'll be hull down in the distance. It's sure a walkover for Lil Artha."
"Reckon you're right, and that it's all over but the shouting!" declared another, who had been for Red Huggins, but proved rather weak-kneed in his faith.
Strange how the different natures of boys crop out under such conditions.
"Huh, it's too early in the game to throw up the sponge like that, Ben!" declared another fellow, derisively. "All sorts of things might happen to Lil Artha. You never can tell about them long-legged fellows. They're apt to double up like a hinge with cramps or something. Wait and see. Jack's holding his own with the rest, because he was only three minutes behind the leader!"
"Next time it'll be half an hour, because Lil Artha has unlimbered his heavy artillery. Why, I bet you he's going along like a Weston, right now, and just eating the miles up."
"Yes, we'll get a message from Little Falls any minute now telling how he blew in there with his seven-league boots, and has started back!" mocked another, who apparently did not love the lanky one any too well.
Meanwhile Elmer was trying to keep his finger on the pulse of things as well as he could. It was while he was taking a look at the motorcycle that had been placed at his disposal, to make sure the tank had a full gallon and a half of oil aboard, and everything in order for a start, that he heard the tooting of a horn up the road.
A couple of the scouts chanced to possess motorcycles. True, they had seen considerable of service, and were often in a condition far from useful; but then Nat Scott, whose father was at the head of the schools in Hickory Ridge, and Toby Jones, had had more or less sport in times past with the second-hand machines purchased with their savings.
It was now just five minutes of four, and Elmer expected to make his start as the hour struck. He knew that he would have time enough to overtake the leading walker long before night set in.
Somewhat to his surprise, the boys who were coming began to shout as soon as they drew near; and he noticed that both of them seemed very much excited.
Elmer's face paled a trifle. He wondered whether any accident could have overtaken one of the contestants; though he could not imagine how such a thing might be.
"Hold on, Elmer, was afraid we wouldn't get here in time to catch you!" called Nat, as they came along, both machines popping merrily; though it might be noticed that they were erratic in their explosions, proving that the spark could not be doing its full duty.
Of course nothing could have tempted Elmer to hasten off now. He wanted to hear what these scouts had to say.
And he remembered something just then. Neither Nat nor Toby had been present to witness the start of the six who had entered for the race. The scout master had appointed them, at their earnest request, as a committee to go over to Fairfield and watch the start of those scouts in the rival organization, so as to bring back a detailed account.
Perhaps Mr. Garrabrant, knowing boys as well as he did, may have secretly suspected that it might pay to have a couple of wide-awake fellows around Fairfield during the day to keep their eyes and ears open. He happened to know that there had arisen a new bully in Fairfield, who was doing all in his power to assume the reins laid down by Matt Tubbs at the time he saw a great light and gave over his evil ways when taking up the attractive scout movement. And it might be that some of those turbulent Fairfield fellows would get together and hatch up a scheme for keeping the Hickory Ridge scouts from winning the long hike.
All this flashed into the mind of Elmer as he saw Nat and Toby speeding toward the church and waving their hands as they shouted.
They came to a stop with something of a dramatic effect, and leaned their motorcycles up against the wall of the church. Of course there was a rush on the part of everyone within sight and hearing of the spot; and already all sorts of wild theories were circulating, as they will at such a time.
"What's happened, d'ye think?" one gasped, looking frightened; for he had a brother in the contest, and his first fear was that something had happened to him.
"One of the boys must have been badly hurt! Perhaps they've come for the ambulance to fetch him home!"
"Aw, get out! What's the use talkin' that way, Jim? However could they get knocked out that way?"
"Besides, ain't Nat and Toby been over at Fairfield all day under orders? Must be news from that place. Perhaps Matt Tubbs has gone back to his old ways again and plans to do our fellows up on the road!"
"Matt Tubbs is all right, and don't you forget it. Here, quit your pushin', and give a feller a chance to get in near Elmer!"
Meanwhile Elmer had waited until the two scouts had saluted, as they had been taught to do when meeting a superior officer; since respect to authority is one of the cardinal principles to which the tenderfoot subscribes when he first joins a patrol.
"Have you just come from Fairfield, Number Four?" Elmer asked, turning first to Toby, who belonged to the Wolf Patrol, which was under his own particular care as patrol leader.
"Yes, sir; been there all day," replied Toby, who was breathing rather hard, as though he might have been having trouble with his machine on the road, and had found it necessary to do considerable wrestling with it in order to make the old tub behave.
"You were dispatched there by our scout master, in order to watch the start of the Fairfield scouts, and be able to give a detailed report of the same?" Elmer continued.
"Just what we were, sir; but that was not the whole extent of our instructions," Toby went on.
"I believe you were also told to stay around during the better part of the day, mingling with the boys of the town all you could, and learning if any underhand doings were being engineered among the tough element outside of the scouts?"
"That's what," replied Toby. "And just this afternoon we got on to something by accident that we thought ought to be reported to headquarters. Wanted to phone it, but they're repairing the wire between here and Fairfield, and we had to try another way. So we hit up a hot pace and came over direct on our machines; though of course we had trouble on the road."
"You did the right thing, Number Four," remarked Elmer. "And now, tell us what you learned. Is there any sign of treachery afoot?"
"Just that, as sure as you live!" cried Nat, unable to hold himself in longer, when he had as much right to be heard as his mate. "They're getting up a scheme to upset all our plans. We didn't hear a breath about it till three, but the fellers in the game had started more'n an hour before."
"Meaning to waylay our boys, and put them out of the running?" asked Elmer, showing signs of anger, as well as an eagerness to be moving.
"Yes, but not exactly by what Mr. Garrabrant would call physical violence," Toby spoke up, pushing his comrade back at the same time. "Four fellows who don't belong to the scouts, I'm glad to say, started out in a car, with the intention of finding whether it seemed likely a Hickory Ridge scout was far in the lead, and if he was, then they meant to tempt him to ride with them for a mile or more, knowing that if he did this he would be disqualified in the race."
"And if he refused, what then?" asked Elmer, knowing what the answer would be.
"They mean to take him along against his will!" shouted Nat, triumphantly, before Toby could answer.