THE AUTO ON FIRE.
"Can't we save him?" cried Jerry to Nestor. "He never took that horse.
It's all a mistake."
"It's no use to reason with those brutes," said the miner. "They
evidently believe they're right. It's too bad, but we'd only git into
trouble if we interfered."
"Bring him along, boys!" cried the leader. "There's a tree that will do
to swing him from, and I've got the rope!"
The boys were almost horror-stricken at the scene they were about to
witness. It was bad enough to see any one hanged, but to witness the
death of the little bug-hunting man they all believed innocent was too
much.
The cowboys, with the poor professor in their midst, rode across the
prairie to where a single tree grew. They had quieted down, now that
their man-hunt was over. Jerry started the auto and steered it across
the rolling land toward the scene of the prospective lynching.
"What are you going to do?" asked Nestor.
"I can't desert him," replied Jerry. "Maybe we can get the cowboys to
let him go."
Nestor shook his head pityingly. He knew the rough western men too well.
They never let even a suspected horse thief escape.
Little time was lost in preparation. Once beneath the tree the men
formed in a circle. The rope was thrown over a limb and a noose made.
The professor was placed beneath it, and the other end of the rope was
grasped by a dozen hands.
"Have you anything to say before we string you up?" asked the leader.
Aside from a little paleness, which hardly showed in the waning
afternoon, Professor Snodgrass gave no sign of what must be a terrible
ordeal for him. He did not seem to appreciate what was taking place.
Suddenly, as he stood beneath the fatal noose, he leaned forward. One
hand sought the green box which was still strapped to his back. The
other went out with a cautious gesture to the arm of the leader of the
cowboys.
"Don't stir! Don't move for the world!" exclaimed the professor, in a
strained whisper. "Just a second and I'll have him!"
His hand closed on something on the leader's coat-sleeve and he uttered
a cry that was more of delight than fear.
"I've got it! I've got it!" he cried.
"Got what?" asked the cowboy.
"One of the rarest specimens of a prairie lizard that exists!" replied
the professor, as, all unconscious of the dangling noose, he thrust the
specimen into his green box. "This is certainly a lucky day for me."
"I'd say it was particularly unlucky," observed the leader, with a grim
smile, adjusting the noose about the neck of the naturalist.
"Why, what's all the fuss about?" asked the professor, noticing for the
first time that he was in a crowd. "Has anything happened?"
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" exclaimed Nestor, who overheard the
conversation. "The poor professor is so absent-minded that he don't know
he's been lassoed and is all ready to be strung up!"
"Hold fast!" exclaimed Jerry, suddenly. "I'm going to rescue him!"
"How?" asked Nestor.
"I'm going to run the auto in close to him. When I do, you reach out and
grab him up."
"Sure, I'm on!" said Nestor.
Jerry gave a loud blast on the horn. The cowboys, who did not know
exactly what to do about hanging a man who didn't seem to mind being
lynched, turned to see what was going on, having forgotten all about the
auto. There was a living lane between the men right up to where the bug
collector stood.
Jerry sent the machine ahead with a rush. Straight at the professor he
steered it. Then, when very close to the bug hunter he gave the wheel a
twist.
Nestor, who was in the rear seat, on the side nearest Mr. Snodgrass,
leaned over. As he swept past the professor the miner grabbed him up,
box, basket, net and all, and lifted him into the auto.
"Full speed ahead!" yelled Nestor, and Jerry threw on all the power he
had.
The little, bald-headed man was yanked from under the tree, and, as the
noose was about his neck the rope came along with him, pulled from the
surprised and unresisting hands of the cowboys.
They gave a great shout of astonishment, and several leaped on their
horses to give pursuit. Others drew their revolvers and fired at the
fast-vanishing auto, but the machine was soon out of reach of the
bullets.
"That's what I call pullin' off a pretty neat trick," observed Nestor.
"They'd have hung you in another minute, professor."
"I'm sure I'm much obliged to you," observed the little man, calmly. "I
hope my specimens are not injured, for I have some very valuable ones."
"Well, he is the limit!" said Nestor, half to himself. "He gits pulled
out of the very jaws of death an' all he cares about is his bugs an'
butterflies!"
Soon they were nearly at the town where they were to stop overnight. The
professor, who seemed a little dazed from what he had gone through, was
gazing at the rope that had been taken from his neck and tossed to the
floor of the tonneau. All at once he stood up and shot a glance at a
horse that was grazing beside the road.
"Hold on!" he cried.
"What's the matter--want to take another nag?" asked Nestor.
"No; but that is the horse I hired. I recognize him by the extra
butterfly net I fastened to the saddle. I was afraid I might lose one.
The other horse wasn't mine."
"Wasn't yours?" fairly shouted the miner. "Then whose was it?"
"It must have belonged to the cowboys," was the answer. "You see, I
forgot all about my horse until I met you. Then I took the first animal
I saw. I supposed, of course, it was mine."
"Then you really were a horse thief after all," said Ned, laughing,
"though you didn't know it."
"And the cowboys were right, as far as they knew," observed Jerry. "They
saw you on one of their horses and naturally thought you stole it.
However, it all came out right, and I guess I did the best thing when I
rescued you, for they might have hanged you before the mistake was found
out."
The auto created no little surprise as it puffed through the western
town, though a sign, "Gasolene for Sale," exhibited in front of the drug
store, indicated that machines sometimes paid a visit. The hotel where
Professor Snodgrass was stopping was soon reached, and every one washed
up and had supper.
The next morning, after a few minor repairs had been made to the auto,
and the gasolene tank replenished, the travelers prepared to start away
again. The professor was up to see them off.
"I wish I was going with you," he said, with a pleasant smile, after
they had told him something of the trip they had in view.
"Why can't you?" inquired Jerry. "We are going into somewhat new
territory, and you may be able to collect some fine specimens. We can
easily make room for you."
"I might go along with you on a horse," ventured the little man.
"That's too risky," observed Nestor. "Take the boys' offer and come
along without a horse."
"I believe I will; I have nothing to keep me here," said the bug
collector, and so it was arranged.
A good stock of provisions was laid in, the auto being piled with all
it could hold and still leave room for the five passengers. Nestor said
they would probably have to camp out a few nights, as on leaving Kansas
and skirting down into New Mexico, settlements were few and far between.
So some rubber and woolen blankets were added to the outfit.
So far the weather had been fine, but this morning there was a haze in
the sky that denoted a storm. It did not worry any one, however, and
made the professor smile.
"There'll be so many more grasshoppers and bugs for me after the
shower," he observed.
An hour passed, and the auto was bowling along at a good pace on a level
stretch of road. Soon Nestor, who was sitting in front with Bob, who was
steering, jumped up.
"What's the matter?" inquired Jerry. "One of the professor's
grasshoppers bite you?"
"The seat seems to be gittin' too hot for comfort," said the miner.
From beneath the auto there came a muffled explosion, followed by a big
cloud of smoke. Then flames shot out, and the whole under side of the
car was enveloped.
"We're on fire!" yelled Bob, preparing to jump.
"Sit still!" exclaimed Jerry. "Don't let go the wheel whatever you do!"
"Turn off the gasolene!" cried Ned. "The tank is leaking and the
gasolene is burning!"
There was great excitement. The only person who kept his head was
Professor Snodgrass. He did not seem to know the auto was on fire, but
was calmly examining a small bug crawling on the cushion near him.
"What shall we do?" wailed Bob. "The auto will be destroyed!"
"We're in a bad fix!" muttered the miner.
Bob reached over to shut off the power, and was making ready to jump.
"Sit still!" exclaimed Jerry.
"And be killed?" objected Bob.
The smoke became more dense and the flames spouted up higher around the
car.
"Quick! There's a small creek! Steer for it!" yelled Jerry, pointing
ahead.
Bob saw the water and realized Jerry's plan. He quickly turned the auto
toward the water. There was a sort of ford turning off from the main
road, which latter led over a small bridge.
Into the creek dashed the burning machine. There was a hiss as the water
reached the flames, and clouds of steam arose.
Then, amid a swish of spray, the machine shot out on the opposite bank,
only the machinery, as far up as the under side of the floor of the car,
having been submerged. The fire was put out as good as if a whole city
department had been called to battle with the flames.