NODDY STEALS A MARCH.
Nestor sat up in bed, listening with all his might. But though he could
hear a murmur of voices in the next room, and though he was certain
Noddy and his companions were plotting against him and his friends, the
miner could hear nothing more definite.
"Forewarned is forearmed," he said, softly. "We'll see who'll win out,
Pud Stoneham!"
Nestor was up early the next morning. The weather had cleared and it was
a beautiful day. The boys came down to breakfast with heavy eyes, for
they had slept soundly. Professor Snodgrass, too, had arisen early, and
was already searching for rare bugs.
"I want to get a red tree-toad," he explained, as he strolled up at the
sound of the breakfast gong, "but I am afraid they are not to be had."
Suddenly he grabbed Ned's arm as the boy was walking toward the
automobile shed.
"One moment, I beg of you!" exclaimed the professor. "Steady now! Ah! I
have the beauty. He was right on the back of your neck!" And he reached
over and took from Ned's coat a small insect.
"It's an extremely choice specimen of a sand flea," said the professor,
proudly, popping the little animal into a glass case. "I hope I did not
discommode you in removing it from you."
"Not at all," laughed Ned, and the others smiled at the simple
earnestness of the bug collector.
"I want to have a talk with you boys after breakfast," spoke Nestor.
His grave manner somewhat alarmed them, and they started to ask
questions, but he would say nothing until after the meal. Then he told
about what he had heard.
"What worries me," said the miner, "is that I saw about the hotel a
fellow that tried to follow me an' my pardner one day, and locate the
lost mine. This chap's name is Tom Dalsett, and I saw him talking
to Stoneham, the gambler, just before we came in to breakfast. Some
mischief is in the wind when two such fellows whisper together."
"Do you suppose they will try to get to the mine ahead of us?" asked
Jerry.
"I haven't a doubt of it," replied the miner. "We've got to look sharp
from now on."
"Had we better start right away?" inquired Ned.
"It will do no harm to wait until the roads dry up a bit," was Nestor's
opinion. "In the meanwhile, see to the machine. Look over every part.
They may have damaged it during the night. See to your guns, too. We're
going to have trouble from now on, or my name isn't Jim Nestor."
His words rather alarmed the boys, but they were not going to back out
now, and rather relished, than otherwise, a conflict with their old
enemy, Noddy Nixon.
Jerry went to the shed where the automobile had been left for the night.
As he opened the door he uttered a cry of surprise.
"What's the matter, have they taken our machine?" asked Ned.
"No, they haven't done that, but they've skipped in their own," said
Jerry. "I wonder if they have done any mischief to ours?"
"That gang has stolen a march on us, all right," spoke Nestor. "They've
gone on ahead. Well, they may get to the mine first, but we'll give them
the hardest kind of a fight for the possession of it. I'm not going to
lose a fortune if I can help it."
Jerry soon ascertained that the red machine was not damaged. Nestor made
inquiries and learned that the other party had left before daybreak, Pud
Stoneham accompanying them.
"What became of that chap with one eye and a scar on his left cheek?"
asked Nestor of the hotel clerk, the description fitting Dalsett.
"Oh, he went off with the others in the gasolene gig this morning," was
the reply.
It was plain now that Noddy and his gang were going to make a bold
strike to discover the lost mine ahead of Nestor and his friends. How
the Cresville bully had trailed the Motor Boys as far as he had was
somewhat of a mystery, though it was afterward learned that he had been
closer behind them after they left Chicago than they supposed. The
meeting at the hotel was an accident, though.
A stiff breeze sprang up, and soon dried the muddy roads. An early
dinner was eaten and once more the party started forward, this time in
pursuit of Noddy.
"It's too bad to have to leave without getting that red tree-toad," said
Professor Snodgrass.
"We'll take you to a place where you can get horned toads," said Nestor.
"Oh, that will be fine!" exclaimed the naturalist, with a boy's
enthusiasm.
The roads were none of the best, and the auto could not be speeded with
safety. Nestor explained that the best plan would be to steer straight
south for a while, after reaching New Mexico, and skirt around the edge
of the mountain range, rather than attempt to make their way across the
Rockies.
"It will take a little longer," he said, "but sometimes the longest
way 'round is the shortest way home. We'll aim for Messilla, which is
not far from El Paso, and it's somewhat civilized there, so we can get
supplies if we need 'em."
The boys voted this plan a good one. By noon the auto had crossed the
narrow stretch of land which is part of Indian Territory, lying between
Texas and Colorado. Then they were in the big State of Texas, and, when
night came on, they found themselves on a vast plain.
"It's a case of camp out to-night," said the miner. "Now we'll see what
sort of stuff you boys are made of."
But if Nestor expected to find the Motor Boys tenderfeet, he was
mistaken. They had camped out too many times before not to know what to
do.
The auto was run under the brow of a little hill, and Jerry took charge
of things. Bob gathered wood for a fire and Ned went on a hunt for
water. He found a little stream that answered admirably. Jerry got out
the coffee-pot and frying-pan, and soon had supper cooking.
There was fried canned chicken, with crisp slices of bacon, some thick
biscuits, a jar of pickles and steaming hot coffee ready in a few
minutes. Bob got out the tin dishes, and, seating themselves on the
ground, the adventurers made a hearty meal.
"Well, I must give you boys credit for knowin' a wrinkle or two," spoke
Nestor. "I couldn't have done any better myself."
"It's a good thing I bought some of those canned goods," said Jerry. "I
thought that would be better than depending on what we could hunt."
Supper over, and the things put away, the boys got out their blankets in
readiness for the night. Nestor lighted his pipe and was puffing away,
while in the fast-gathering dusk Professor Snodgrass went searching for
rare specimens. He was successful in capturing two odd grass snakes, and
seemed quite delighted. Then, as night settled down, each one rolled
himself up in his blanket and fell asleep.
Ned awoke first the next morning, and soon had the fire going and
coffee made. The aromatic smell of the beverage greeted the others as
they roused themselves, and soon a simple but satisfying breakfast was
served. Then the journey was continued.
It was a fine day, and the adventurers breathed in great whiffs of the
pure air as their car dashed along. They passed through one or two small
settlements, but inquiries failed to develop any traces of Noddy and his
companions.
"They may be going straight over the mountains," said Nestor. "Well,
even if they do I think we'll beat them in the race for the mine.
Mountain climbing is mighty onsartin' in one of these machines."
But, had they only known it, Noddy and his gang were not aiming for the
mountains, and were but a little way in advance of our friends. However,
the Motor Boys soon learned, to their cost, where their enemy was.
It was well along in the afternoon, and dinner had been eaten at a
rude shack of a hotel in a small village, that the auto was skimming
along, due south. Off to the right were the foothills of the mighty
Rocky Mountains, while to the left was a vast rolling plain. Jerry was
steering, with Bob on the seat beside him, while in the rear were the
others, Professor Snodgrass busily engaged in sorting over some of his
specimens.
All at once a low, rumbling sound was heard.
"Is that thunder?" asked Ned.
"Can't be," replied Nestor. "There's not a cloud in the sky." Then he
stood up and glanced behind him.
"Great Scott!" he yelled. "Put on all the speed you've got!"
"What's the matter?" asked Jerry.
"Matter?" shouted the miner. "There's a herd of stampeded cattle coming
straight for us. If they're not turned aside they'll go over us like a
locomotive over a fly! Quick! Turn over toward the hills! Maybe we can
escape them!"
In terror, the boys looked behind them. Coming on with a mad rush, with
a thunder of thousands of hoofs, and deep-mouthed bellows, were the
steers, galloping like the wind!