CHAPTER I.

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[Illustration: FOR NEARLY TEN MILES THE AUTOS WERE CLOSE TOGETHER.]

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND

Or

A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune

by

CLARENCE YOUNG

Author of "The Motor Boys," "The Motor Boys in Mexico," etc.

New York

Cupples & Leon Co.

* * * * * *

BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG

=MOTOR BOYS SERIES=

12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid

THE MOTOR BOYS

Or Chums Through Thick and Thin

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND

Or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune

THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO

Or the Secret of the Buried City

THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS

Or The Hermit of Lost Lake

THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT

Or The Stirring Cruise of the Dartaway

THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC

Or The Mystery of the Lighthouse

=THE JACK RANGER SERIES=

12mo. Finely Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid

JACK RANGER'S SCHOOLDAYS

Or The Rivals of Washington Hall

JACK RANGER'S WESTERN TRIP

Or From Boarding School to Ranch and Range

JACK RANGER'S SCHOOL VICTORIES

Or Track, Gridiron and Diamond

(Other volumes in preparation)

* * * * * *

Copyright, 1906, by

Cupples & Leon Company

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER. PAGE

I. AN AUTOMOBILE RACE 1

II. HO FOR THE WEST! 10

III. THE OLD MILL ON FIRE 18

IV. A CHASE AFTER A RASCAL 26

V. THE MYSTERY OF THE MINER 34

VI. A HOLD-UP 42

VII. A FRUITLESS PURSUIT 49

VIII. IN THE WINDY CITY 56

IX. A SHOT IN THE DARK 64

X. ENCIRCLED BY COWBOYS 72

XI. CAPTURING A HORSE THIEF 79

XII. THE AUTO ON FIRE 87

XIII. AT DEAD MAN'S GULCH 95

XIV. NODDY STEALS A MARCH 103

XV. IN THE NICK OF TIME 111

XVI. A RUSH OF GOLD SEEKERS 119

XVII. OVER THE MOUNTAINS 126

XVIII. A TRICK OF THE ENEMY 133

XIX. THE AUTO STOLEN 140

XX. ATTACKED BY INDIANS 147

XXI. OVER A CLIFF 154

XXII. THE CHASE 161

XXIII. WRECKED 169

XXIV. FORWARD ONCE MORE 176

XXV. A RACE TO THE MINE 183

XXVI. GOLD! 191

XXVII. BESIEGED AT THE MINE 198

XXVIII. WINNING THE CLAIM 205

XXIX. THE FIGHT AT THE MINE 212

XXX. AN ESCAPE--CONCLUSION 220

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FOR NEARLY TEN MILES THE AUTOS WERE CLOSE TOGETHER.

“TAKE THAT!” NED CRIED.

THEY RUSHED TO ONE SIDE, THUNDERING PAST THE AUTO.

THE SAVAGES BEGAN CIRCLING ABOUT THE MACHINE.

PREFACE.

_Dear Boys_:

Here we have the second volume of "The Motor Boys Series," a line of

books relating to the doings of some bright and up-to-date youths, on

wheels, at home and abroad.

In the first volume of the series, called "The Motor Boys," the writer

told how Bob, Ned and Jerry won several important races, including that

which brought to them a much-wished-for prize, a grand touring car.

The car won, there was nothing to do but to take a long trip, and in

this present book, "The Motor Boys Overland," are given the particulars

of a journey in the automobile to the great West. On the way the boys

fall in with an old miner, who has the secret of a lost gold mine of

great value. The lads decide to take the miner to the lost mine in their

touring car, and the long and perilous journey among the mountains is

begun. Enemies also hear of the wonderful lost mine, and then begins a

wild race, to see who shall get there first and claim the riches.

This "Motor Boys Series" will be continued by a third volume, to be

called "The Motor Boys in Mexico." I earnestly hope the boys will find

the stories to their liking. I can assure all it has been a pleasure

to pen them, for the writer is something of an automobile enthusiast

himself, and some of the experiences on the road have been taken from

life.

CLARENCE YOUNG.

_March 22, 1906._

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND.

CHAPTER I.

AN AUTOMOBILE RACE.

There was a whizz of rubber-tired wheels, a cloud of dust and the

frightened yelping of a dog as a big, red touring automobile shot down

the road.

"You nearly ran over him, Chunky!" exclaimed Jerry Hopkins, to the stout

youth at his side.

"That's what you did, Bob Baker!" chimed in Ned Slade, leaning over from

the rear seat of the auto. "I thought you said you were an expert."

"I didn't come within five feet of the pup," answered Bob Baker, giving

the steering wheel a twist to avoid a chicken that scooted across the

country road.

"Never mind--miss as good as a mile--we certainly are skating

along--never say die--hit a dog, biff! bang! up in the air--down

again--bust a tire--break your leg--kill the animal--off again--whoop!"

"Say, Andy Rush, if you're going to talk as fast as that the first time

Chunky speeds the machine, I'm going to get out!" cried Jerry, with a

laugh. "There's excitement enough without you making any more."

"All right, fellows, I'll keep quiet," agreed Andy, who was a small,

nervous chap, never still for a moment, and so full of energy that he

talked, as Jerry sometimes said, "like a house afire."

Bob leaned forward and pulled one of the levers. The auto slowed down,

as the low-speed gear came into play, and bowled along under a stretch

of shady trees.

"Fifteen miles in thirty minutes," remarked the stout lad, pulling out

his watch. "Not so bad for a starter, eh, Ned?"

"The machine certainly can go!" observed Jerry.

"I didn't have the full-speed lever on, either," remarked Bob, who was

called "Chunky" by his companions, because of his fleshiness. He turned

off the gasolene as the auto came under a large chestnut tree, and the

four boys stretched out comfortably on the leather-upholstered seats.

There was Bob Baker, a lad of fifteen years, son of Andrew Baker, a rich

banker; Ned Slade, sixteen years old, the only son of Aaron Slade, a

department store proprietor, and Jerry Hopkins, the son of a widow, Mrs.

Julia Hopkins.

These three were faithful chums, seldom apart. With them was a mutual

friend, Andy Rush. All the boys lived in the village of Cresville, not

far from Boston.

The three first named had, the week before the story opens, come into

possession of a fine touring car, which they had won as the first prize

of a motor-cycle meet, given by the Cresville Athletic Club, as related

in the first volume of this series, entitled "The Motor Boys."

In that was told how they had incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town

bully, who had robbed the mill of Amos Judson of one thousand dollars,

which crime the Motor Boys were instrumental in fastening on Noddy.

In consequence of the pending disclosure of his guilt, Noddy had fled

from town, a short time before the races, in his father's automobile.

Bill Berry, a town ne'er-do-well, accompanied him. Not long after Noddy

had fled in the terror of his guilt being found out, he sent back a

letter threatening vengeance on the three boys, whom he accused as being

responsible for the fact that he had to leave home.

But the Motor Boys, as they now called themselves, cared little for this

in view of the pleasures they anticipated when they got the automobile.

It had come in due time; a fine affair, with all the latest improvements

and attachments, and was a car capable of making a trip almost anywhere.

The company from whom the auto was purchased sent an expert out to

Cresville with it, to instruct the boys in the running of the machine.

They learned readily, and were soon able to make short trips on the

country roads surrounding the village. This was the first time they had

made an extended trip, and the drawing of lots had given Bob the chance

to drive the auto, with the result that he nearly came to grief when the

dog unexpectedly ran across the road.

For about half an hour the three chums and Andy rested in the shade. It

was a pleasant fall afternoon, and though the sun was warm there was a

cool breeze.

"Whose turn to crank her up?" asked Bob, for, of course, it could not be

expected of him, in charge of the steering wheel, to start the engine.

"I guess it's mine," came from Ned, with a sort of groan. His arm still

ached from the previous turning of the flywheel.

"I'll do it--lots of fun--first time I ever had a chance--let me--good

for my muscle--whoop!" exclaimed Andy, bustling from the car.

"Oh, it's good for your muscle, all right enough," observed Ned. "Go on,

I'll not stop you."

It was harder work than Andy had anticipated, but he managed to give

the crank a few turns and spin the heavy flywheel around. Bob switched

on the spark, turned the gasolene into the cylinders, and soon there was

a throbbing that told the engine had started. Andy jumped to one side

and nearly toppled over.

"Did you think I'd run you down?" asked Bob.

"I don't know anything about autos," answered Andy.

"She can't go until I connect the speed-gears," explained Bob, with

something of a superior air. "Hop in, Andy!"

Andy climbed back to his rear seat, Bob threw the lever forward to

first speed, and the car, moving slowly at first, but with increasing

swiftness, started down the road.

"Look out for dogs!" advised Ned.

"We don't want roast chicken for supper, so you needn't bother to kill

any," came from Jerry.

"I can steer as good as either of you," exclaimed the stout lad. "You

nearly hit a man the other day, Jerry, and I guess you've forgotten,

Ned, how you broke down one of Mr. Smith's shade trees. I'm not as bad

as that."

Honk! honk! sounded down the road in the rear of the boys.

"Here comes another auto," said Jerry. "Keep over to one side, Bob."

Honk! honk! This time it was Bob who blew his horn to let the oncomers

know some one was ahead of them. The noise of the approaching car

sounded nearer.

"Better keep well over, Chunky," advised Ned.

"I'm not going to give 'em more than half the road," answered Bob,

firmly. "If they want a race they can have it, too."

He threw the third-speed clutch into place, and the boys' car shot ahead

so suddenly that Andy was nearly toppled out of his seat. The red auto

dashed down the road.

Behind it, at a swift pace, there came a big, green affair, almost twice

the size of the Cresville machine. It was going at a great pace, a lone

man occupying the steering seat, and no one being in back. As the green

car shot past the red one, the solitary rider gave three toots to his

horn. Bob answered, and then, before the other boys could stop him he

advanced his spark, turned on more gasolene, and was away after the

green dragon like a streak of red fire.

"What are you going to do?" yelled Ned.

"See if I can beat him!" exclaimed Bob.

"You're crazy! That's a ninety horse-power car and ours is only forty!"

"I'm going to try," repeated Bob, between his clenched teeth.

It looked like a hopeless undertaking. The green car was a quarter of a

mile ahead before Bob could get his machine speeded up. When he did,

however, the new auto ran along swiftly and easily.

Bob shut off his power temporarily and then, with a quick yank, pulled

the lever to full speed ahead. Then he turned on the spark and gasolene.

The red auto seemed to double its already swift motion.

The car swayed from side to side, and the boys, except Bob, who had a

firm grip of the wheel, were bounced up into the air, again and again.

Bob had on big goggles, and, with head bent low, was watching the road

like a hawk ready to pounce on a chicken.

"We're gaining on him!" he muttered, and he tooted the horn. Back a

faint, answering blast came.

Indeed, it was evident that the red auto, though a smaller and less

powerful machine, was creeping up on its rival. The lone chauffeur

glanced back, saw the pursuing car, and turned on full power.

For a few moments he increased his lead. But Bob advanced his spark

further, and turned on a trifle more of gasolene. The red auto once more

leaped forward.

"We've got him!" cried Bob. "He can't get another inch out of his, and I

haven't used the accelerator pedal yet. We'll beat him!"

"If we don't all break our necks!" exclaimed Jerry, holding to his seat.

"Terrible fast--takes your breath--shakes the liver-pin out of

you--loosens all your teeth--great sport--smash the machine--never say

die--don't give up the ship--whoop!" yelled Andy, as he slid down to the

bottom of the car, unable any longer to remain upright.

Slowly the red car crept up on the green one. The dust arose in clouds

about both machines. The autos swayed from the terrific speed, but

Bob held the wheel firm and was ready to shut off power and apply the

emergency brake in a second. The man in front again glanced back, and

did not seem to relish being passed by mere boys in a smaller car than

his. He was making desperate efforts to draw away.

The distance between the machines lessened. Bob was watching his

opportunity.

"Now we've got him!" he cried. "Here we go!"

He pushed down the accelerator pedal, used only to give a momentary

burst of speed. The red car shot forward and the front wheels almost

lapped the rear ones of the machine in the lead.

There was a slight turn to the road, just where Bob had decided to pass

his rival. A clump of trees hid the view, excepting for a short distance

ahead. Just as the boys' auto was on the point of making the turn and

passing the green one, Ned glanced up and gave a shout of terror.

Right in front was a load of hay, overturned in the road, and both cars,

at full speed, were dashing straight for it!

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