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.