IN DEADLY PERIL
It was after he reached the Western deserts that Bert experienced the
hardest going. The roads, if mere trails could be dignified by that
name, were unspeakably bad, and time and again he was forced to ride on
the railroad embankment, between the tracks. Of course, progress in this
manner was necessarily slow, and again and again Bert had occasion to
feel grateful for the wonderful springing system of his mount. Without
some such aid, he felt his task would be well nigh hopeless.
As it was, he had to let a little air out of the tires, to reduce the
shocks caused by contact with the rough ballast and uneven ties. In some
places, where the roadbed was exceptionally well ballasted he was able
to open up a little, but such stretches were few and far between. In
places he was forced to dismount because of drainage culverts running
under the tracks. When this happened he would lift the "Blue Streak" up
on a rail and trundle it over. It was back-breaking work, and tested
even his courage and endurance to the utmost.
His oil and gasoline supply ran low, but by great good fortune he was
able to secure almost a gallon of gasoline from an agent at a lonely
little station, and about a quart of very inferior lubricating oil. But
he comforted himself with the thought that "half a loaf is better than
none" and went on. After a while he noticed that a passable looking road
skirted the railroad to the left, and he resolved to try it.
Accordingly, he scrambled down the steep embankment, the "Blue Streak"
half rolling and half sliding down with him. He arrived safely at the
bottom, and a minute later was on the road. It proved to be fairly good
at first, but became more and more sandy, and at last Bert was brought
to a standstill.
"I guess I'm through for to-day," he reflected, and gazed anxiously in
every direction for any sign of human habitation. His searching gaze met
nothing but empty sky and empty desert, however, and he drew a sigh of
resignation. "I guess there's nothing for it but to camp out here and
make the best of things," he thought, and set about unstrapping his
impedimenta from the luggage carrier.
His preparations for the night were soon made. He smoothed out a patch
of sand and spread his thick army blanket over it. "Now that that's
done," he thought, "I'll just have a bite to eat, and turn in. This
isn't half bad, after all. It's a lot better than some of the hotels
I've put up at on this trip, and the ventilation is perfect."
He always carried a substantial lunch with him, to guard against
emergencies, and of this he now partook heartily. When he had finished,
he busied himself in cleaning and thoroughly inspecting his faithful
mount, and found it in fine condition, even after such a strenuous day.
"No need to worry about your not delivering the goods, is there, old
boy?" he said, affectionately. "As long as you stick to the job, we'll
pull through all right."
By the time he had completed his inspection and made some adjustments it
was almost dark, and Bert rolled himself in his blanket and was soon
sleeping soundly.
Meantime Tom and Dick were awaiting him at Boyd, a small town in
Northern Texas. When he failed to arrive, they decided that some
unforeseen event had delayed him, and were not much worried.
Nevertheless, they were not quite easy about him, and Tom made a
proposition that met with instant approbation from Dick.
"Why wouldn't it be a good idea," Tom proposed, "to hire an automobile
early to-morrow morning and meet him outside the town on his way in? It
will break up the trip a little for him, and then, in case he's had a
breakdown we can help him out."
"Fine!" agreed Dick, enthusiastically, "let's go out right now and make
arrangements with the garage keeper so we'll be sure to get the machine
in the morning. We might as well be on the safe side."
They immediately sallied out to put this plan in execution. They
experienced no difficulty in making the necessary arrangements. They
paid the proprietor of the garage a deposit, and so secured the use of a
fast, two-seated runabout for the following morning.
Before they left Dick asked the proprietor at what time the place was
open. "Oh, it's always open," he replied, "come and get the car any time
you want it. It's all the same to me, so long as it's paid for."
"All right, we'll take you at your word," they promised, and returned to
the hotel.
"We'll get a good early start," planned Tom, "we ought to leave the
garage before six o'clock if we expect to meet Bert in time."
"We'll do just that," agreed Dick, "and maybe I won't be glad to set
eyes on the old reprobate again."
"I, too," said Tom, "he'll be a sight for sore eyes."
"That's what," agreed Dick, "but if we're going to get started at that
unearthly hour, we'd better turn in early to-night."
This proposition being self-evident, it met with no opposition, and
shortly afterward they retired, leaving an early call at the office.
They were awakened punctually the next morning, and tumbled hastily into
their clothes. They did not even stop for breakfast, arguing "that there
would be plenty of time for that later on." In a very short time they
presented themselves at the garage, and the party in charge, following
instructions left with him by the owner of the place, turned the
automobile over to them.
Dick took the wheel, and they were soon spinning rapidly through the
quiet streets of the town. Once outside the limits, Dick "cracked on
speed," and they went along at a fast clip. They passed right by the
place where Bert had encamped at a distance of several miles, and before
long came to a village, where they inquired if Bert had been through.
No, the villagers said, he had not been through there, but they had
heard that a motorcyclist had been seen riding on the railroad
embankment, and there could be little doubt that the rider was Bert.
"You must have passed him somewhere," concluded one of their informants,
an old native whose tanned and weather-beaten face was seamed by a
thousand wrinkles. "P'raps he stuck to the railroad tracks clean
through, an' is in Boyd by this time."
But Dick shook his head. "If he'd followed the tracks right along he'd
probably have reached town last night," he said, with an anxious look in
his eyes. "I'm afraid he's left the track for one reason or another,
and lost his way."
"Is there any road near the track that he might have used?" queried Tom.
"No, there ain't," replied the veteran, "leastways, nothin' except the
old Holloway trail, and you can't rightly call that a road. It's most
wiped out now, an' jest leads plumb to nowhere."
"Just the same," exclaimed Dick, excitedly, "that's just what has
happened." He explained hurriedly the race and its object, and ended by
entreating the old plainsman to guide them to the road he had spoken of.
"Waal, all right," exclaimed the old man, after a moment of hesitation,
"I'll go ye. But whareabouts in that gasoline buggy o' yourn am I goin'
to sit? Thar don't seem to be much room to spare."
"You sit here," exclaimed Tom, jumping out. "I'll sit on the floor and
hold on somehow. Let her go, Dick."
Before the plainsman had fairly settled himself in the seat Dick had let
in the clutch, and the car started away with a jerk, Dick steering
according to directions given him by the old man as they went along.
They plowed through the sand at a breakneck pace, Tom hanging on for
dear life. Soon they came in sight of the railroad embankment, and Dick
slowed down slightly. Their guide waved his arm to the right, and Dick
wrenched the wheel around, causing the machine to skid wildly in the
yielding sand. Their guide hung on desperately, but was heard to mutter
something about "stickin' to hosses after this." Soon they reached the
road that Bert had traversed the night before, and there, sure enough,
were the marks of motorcycle tires. Their guide gave a whoop. "We're
close on his trail now," he yelled, "give this tarnation machine a touch
o' the spurs, young feller."
Dick followed out the spirit of this admonition, at any rate, and after
ten minutes of furious driving they caught sight of the "Blue Streak." A
little further, and they could make out Bert's recumbent form,
apparently asleep.
"Well," exclaimed Tom, heaving a sigh of relief as Dick reduced speed,
"we've had all our worry for nothing, I guess."
But the old plainsman was peering out from under his horny palm. "It's
almighty queer," he muttered under his breath. "That young chap must be
an all-fired heavy sleeper to sleep in broad daylight like that. Let's
get out an' walk the rest o' the way," he continued, aloud.
Dick looked at him curiously, but did as he proposed, and brought the
car to a standstill. They all got out, and Tom and Dick were going to
make a dash for the sleeper, but their guide held them back. "Easy boys,
easy," he cautioned. "There's somethin' wrong here, an' I've an idee I
know what it is, too."
"That's whatever!" he exclaimed, when they had advanced cautiously a few
steps further. "They's a bunch o' scorpions has crawled up on him durin'
the night to keep warm, an' if he moves an eyelash they'll sting him,
sure. An' ef they do----" he stopped significantly, and the two friends
of the threatened man paled as they realized the full horror of the
situation.
Here was their friend menaced by a hideous death, and they found
themselves powerless to help him. They were within a hundred feet of
him, but to all intents and purposes they might as well have been a
hundred miles distant. The first attempt on their part to help him would
only precipitate the very tragedy that they sought to avoid.
Bert lay in the shadow cast by the "Blue Streak," over which he had
thrown a blanket to protect it from wind-blown sand. The hideous
creatures would not leave him until the sun drove them into hiding, and
Bert might wake at any moment. What to do they knew not. They racked
their brains desperately for some plan of action, but could think of
none.
It was the old frontiersman who came to their rescue. "Ef I only had a
bit o' lookin' glass," he muttered, looking aimlessly about him, "I
might do somethin'. But they probably ain't no sech thing nearer than
ten miles."
"If that would do any good I can get you one," exclaimed Tom, seized
with an inspiration. He raced back to the auto, and, seizing a wrench,
attacked the mirror attached to the dash for the purpose of reflecting
objects coming in back of the car. He had it off in less time than it
takes to tell, and ran back, waving it over his head. "Here you are!" he
exclaimed, thrusting it into the hands of the guide. "But I don't see
what good that will do."
"Never you mind, son," said the old man, snatching the mirror from him.
"Jest you watch my smoke."
He took up a position on the other side of Bert, and manipulated the
mirror so that a bright beam of sunlight fell on the recumbent form. Its
effect was soon apparent. The poisonous insects stirred uneasily, trying
to avoid the glare that they hated. Finding that there was no escaping
it, they at last commenced to crawl down in search of a more shady
resting place.
One by one they made off, the flashing ray of light hastening the
departure of the laggards. Watching breathlessly, Dick and Tom waited
for the last noxious insect to crawl sluggishly down onto the blanket
and then off into the sand. Even after the last one had been dislodged,
the prairieman played the reflected sunlight over Bert until there was
no longer cause for apprehension.
"All right, young fellers," he said at last. "I cal'late you can wake
your friend up now without takin' any long chances."
Dick and Tom were about to avail themselves of this permission, but
found that there was no need. As they started forward the "sleeper" sat
up, and then scrambled to his feet.
His comrades uttered a simultaneous expression of surprise, and Dick
exclaimed, "Of all the lucky old reprobates that ever lived, Bert,
you're certainly the luckiest, without exception. If you had waked up
ten minutes sooner, you would----"
"Waked up your grandmother," interrupted Bert. "Why, I've been awake
over an hour. I was awake when you got here, but I was afraid to move
for fear of having one of those things bite me--ugh!" and a great
shudder of disgust passed over him, "that was a waking nightmare in
earnest. I feel as weak as a rag. Look at that!" and he held out his
hand. It was trembling like a leaf.
"Waal, I'll be jiggered," exclaimed the Westerner, in an admiring voice,
"you've sure got nerve, young feller, and no mistake. It ain't everybody
as could hold hisself the way you did with them blamed critters crawlin'
all over him. It took nerve, it shore did."
"Probably you'd have done the same thing if you'd been in my place,"
observed Bert, with a friendly smile.
"Waal, mebbe I would an' mebbe I wouldn't," replied the old man,
evidently much gratified by this little compliment, "although I don't
say as how I haven't had one or two close shaves in my time, mind ye."
"Well, at any rate, I guess I owe my life to you, and, of course, to
my pals here," said Bert, "and all I can say is, that I'm more than
grateful."
"That's all right, young feller," replied the plainsman, with a
deprecatory wave of his hand, "you can thank me best by not sayin' a
word about it. You'd have done the same fer me ef you'd had the chance."
Bert said no more, but shook hands all around, and then prepared to
start on. "You fellows lead the way," he said, "and I'll follow. My
appetite is beginning to come back with a rush."
"Ye'd better follow the road we come by back a piece," advised their
guide, "ye'll soon come to the main road leadin' into Boyd, and you
oughtn't to have any further trouble."
"That listens all right," observed Bert, and Dick and Tom were of the
same mind. Accordingly, they lost no time in packing up Bert's luggage,
and soon had it stored neatly on the carrier. Then Dick pointed the
nose of the automobile in the direction their guide had advised, Bert
following at a little distance to give the dust raised by the passage
of the automobile time to settle. In a short time they reached the road
of which the guide had spoken, and they spun along merrily.
They made a slight detour to set down the old frontiersman, who had
rendered them such invaluable assistance. They parted from him with
great regret and many expressions of gratitude. He stood in the sandy
road waving his hat after them until his figure became indistinct in the
distance.
"There was a friend in need, if there ever was one," said Tom, and Dick
was of the same opinion.
After awhile the road broadened out somewhat, and Bert ranged up
alongside the automobile. He closed the muffler of his machine, and as
it glided along with scarcely a sound he and his friends conversed
without the slightest difficulty. In this way the distance seemed
nothing at all, and in due time they drew into Boyd.
Bert left the "Blue Streak" at the garage, and went with Tom and Dick to
their hotel. They were all ravenously hungry, and the ravages they
caused among the eatables filled the waiters with astonishment. At last
they had finished, and then proceeded to discuss their future movements.
"I've managed to keep pretty well to schedule so far," he told them,
"and some of the worst going is over. But, believe me, I wouldn't want
to repeat some of the experiences I've had. Take this morning, for
instance."
"No, I shouldn't think you would," said Dick. "But tell us about a few.
It won't do you any harm to rest up an hour or two now, and we're crazy
to hear some of your adventures. Reel off a few, like a good fellow."
Bert gave them a brief review of his recent movements, and they listened
with the greatest interest. Some of the incidents were very amusing, but
they elicited less laughter than they usually would, for the nerves of
all three had not yet fully recovered from the shock they had received
that morning.
"Well," said Bert at last, rising, "I'm sorry, fellows, but I'm afraid
I'll have to be moving. Get hold of that auto again, why don't you, and
go with me a little way. You can do that all right, can't you?"
"Sure," exclaimed Dick. "Bet your sweet life we can," chimed in Tom, and
so it was settled.
The three comrades proceeded directly to the garage, and had no
difficulty in hiring the car that had already served them so well that
morning. Bert ran the "Blue Streak" out onto the sunlit road, and,
running beside it, shot on the spark. The motor started immediately, and
he gave a flying leap into the saddle.
Dick and Tom were close behind, and tried to catch up with him. But Bert
would not have it so. As soon as they began to get close he would shoot
ahead, and although they had a speedy car, they realized that they stood
no chance against such a motorcycle as the "Blue Streak."
Laughingly they gave over the attempt, and Bert dropped back until they
were abreast of him.
"No chance, fellows," he called gaily. "The old 'Blue Streak' and I
don't take the dust of any mere automobile."
They exchanged jokes and friendly insults until they had gone much
further than they realized, and were forced to turn back.
They stopped before parting and shook hands.
"So long, old fellow," said Dick. "We'll be waiting to meet you at
Oklahoma."
"Good-bye," said Bert, wringing their hands, "see you later," and,
leaping on the "Blue Streak," was soon lost to sight in a cloud of
dust.