SIGNS OF TROUBLE.
"LOOK at 'em all in a bunch!" cried one of the watchers; for the crowd
had been particularly requested not to follow the six walkers or annoy
them in the start.
"But with Lil Artha at the head!" called another exultantly.
"But they're all keeping up close with him, even if Red does have to
cover five steps to three by Lil Artha. It ain't the length of a
fellow's legs that counts for everything in a hike, let me tell you!"
"Shucks! Why, Lil Artha is just playing with 'em," laughed another.
"Sure he is; when he feels like it, he'll make a ring around the rest,
and then not be pushed!"
"Oh, he will, eh? Shows how much you know about these things. Lil Artha
may be due to a little surprise before many hours go past; and it'll be
George Robbins who will do it," said Landy, proudly.
"For he has the true Philander Smith grit," sang another; at which there
was a shout from the rapidly breaking-up crowd, for this little weakness
on the part of the fat boy was pretty generally known.
Presently a turn in the road shut out the walkers. They were all going
strong when last seen, and Lil Artha even turned to wave a jaunty
farewell to those of his friends who had wished him success in the great
hike.
Elmer and the balance of the scouts gathered together to talk over
matters connected with the affair. A plan of campaign had been mapped
out with almost as much care as if a battle were impending. Indeed, all
sorts of road maps had been consulted in laying out the course over
which the six contestants were expected to pass. And a copy of the same,
as well as the rules governing their actions, had been sent over to the
Fairfield troop at the earnest request of the scout master who had
lately taken charge there.
The morning began to wear on.
Some of those who had gathered to watch the start had come without
waiting for breakfast, though the scouts, as a rule, could not be
reckoned in that class, being early risers. And as the hours went by
there was always more or less excitement around headquarters.
Several fellows had brought their wheels around. These were the chosen
inspectors whose duty it was to sally forth at certain hours when Elmer
gave the word, and pick up the several contestants along the way,
perhaps telephoning any interesting news connected with them from some
convenient inn where the registers were placed.
Mr. Garrabrant and one of the scouts had gone off in an auto long ago.
They expected to establish the chosen stations and leave the registers
in which each fellow was to enter the time of his coming and going.
At ten o'clock the first scout on a wheel was sent out. Another would
follow at twelve, and around four Elmer, as the last inspector, expected
to start. He chose to be last because a fellow who owned a motorcycle
had loaned it to him for the occasion, and thus he had a big advantage
over the others.
When noon came there was a ripple of interest. A scout had come from the
store where the telephone station happened to be located, and he
brought the first news of the big hike.
All the contestants had made the first station easily, passing within
five minutes of each other. And, strange to say, it was Lil Artha whose
time seemed to be just at the tail end of the procession. No one could
understand it, and all sorts of speculations began to pass current.
"Got a stone in his shoe and bruised his heel!" one suggested.
"More'n likely he's gone and strained a tendon again; remember he did
that two years ago when he made the home run that won the game!" another
exclaimed.
"Rats!" called out a third, scornfully. "The sly old fox is only doing
that for fun. He's playing with the other fellows, believe me. When he
gets good and ready he'll pass the bunch, and leave 'em so far behind
they'll forget their names. Oh, I know Lil Artha! Why, he even took his
little camera along. Said he wanted to snap off a few pictures on the
way, just to pass time, when he got too lonesome."
After a hasty lunch the boys again assembled at the church, and if
anything, in greater numbers than before; for every fellow in town
seemed to be on the spot, anxious to hear what news might come dribbling
in.
Two o'clock came, and with it a running scout from the store, where
several were stationed in order to be ready to answer the phone.
More news, and of a character to arouse great excitement. At the second
station there was a difference of just thirteen minutes between the
arrival of the leader and the last contestant. That leader was Lil
Artha; and sad to relate, the tail ender trailed the proud banner of the
Philander Smiths in the dust, for it was no other than George.
"Told you so!" burst out the fellow who had been so positive about the
tall Lil Artha playing tricks. "He's starting now; and by night time
he'll be hull down in the distance. It's sure a walkover for Lil Artha."
"Reckon you're right, and that it's all over but the shouting!" declared
another, who had been for Red Huggins, but proved rather weak-kneed in
his faith.
Strange how the different natures of boys crop out under such
conditions.
"Huh, it's too early in the game to throw up the sponge like that, Ben!"
declared another fellow, derisively. "All sorts of things might happen
to Lil Artha. You never can tell about them long-legged fellows. They're
apt to double up like a hinge with cramps or something. Wait and see.
Jack's holding his own with the rest, because he was only three minutes
behind the leader!"
"Next time it'll be half an hour, because Lil Artha has unlimbered his
heavy artillery. Why, I bet you he's going along like a Weston, right
now, and just eating the miles up."
"Yes, we'll get a message from Little Falls any minute now telling how
he blew in there with his seven-league boots, and has started back!"
mocked another, who apparently did not love the lanky one any too well.
Meanwhile Elmer was trying to keep his finger on the pulse of things as
well as he could. It was while he was taking a look at the motorcycle
that had been placed at his disposal, to make sure the tank had a full
gallon and a half of oil aboard, and everything in order for a start,
that he heard the tooting of a horn up the road.
A couple of the scouts chanced to possess motorcycles. True, they had
seen considerable of service, and were often in a condition far from
useful; but then Nat Scott, whose father was at the head of the schools
in Hickory Ridge, and Toby Jones, had had more or less sport in times
past with the second-hand machines purchased with their savings.
It was now just five minutes of four, and Elmer expected to make his
start as the hour struck. He knew that he would have time enough to
overtake the leading walker long before night set in.
Somewhat to his surprise, the boys who were coming began to shout as
soon as they drew near; and he noticed that both of them seemed very
much excited.
Elmer's face paled a trifle. He wondered whether any accident could have
overtaken one of the contestants; though he could not imagine how such a
thing might be.
"Hold on, Elmer, was afraid we wouldn't get here in time to catch you!"
called Nat, as they came along, both machines popping merrily; though it
might be noticed that they were erratic in their explosions, proving
that the spark could not be doing its full duty.
Of course nothing could have tempted Elmer to hasten off now. He wanted
to hear what these scouts had to say.
And he remembered something just then. Neither Nat nor Toby had been
present to witness the start of the six who had entered for the race.
The scout master had appointed them, at their earnest request, as a
committee to go over to Fairfield and watch the start of those scouts in
the rival organization, so as to bring back a detailed account.
Perhaps Mr. Garrabrant, knowing boys as well as he did, may have
secretly suspected that it might pay to have a couple of wide-awake
fellows around Fairfield during the day to keep their eyes and ears
open. He happened to know that there had arisen a new bully in
Fairfield, who was doing all in his power to assume the reins laid down
by Matt Tubbs at the time he saw a great light and gave over his evil
ways when taking up the attractive scout movement. And it might be that
some of those turbulent Fairfield fellows would get together and hatch
up a scheme for keeping the Hickory Ridge scouts from winning the long
hike.
All this flashed into the mind of Elmer as he saw Nat and Toby speeding
toward the church and waving their hands as they shouted.
They came to a stop with something of a dramatic effect, and leaned
their motorcycles up against the wall of the church. Of course there was
a rush on the part of everyone within sight and hearing of the spot; and
already all sorts of wild theories were circulating, as they will at
such a time.
"What's happened, d'ye think?" one gasped, looking frightened; for he
had a brother in the contest, and his first fear was that something had
happened to him.
"One of the boys must have been badly hurt! Perhaps they've come for the
ambulance to fetch him home!"
"Aw, get out! What's the use talkin' that way, Jim? However could they
get knocked out that way?"
"Besides, ain't Nat and Toby been over at Fairfield all day under
orders? Must be news from that place. Perhaps Matt Tubbs has gone back
to his old ways again and plans to do our fellows up on the road!"
"Matt Tubbs is all right, and don't you forget it. Here, quit your
pushin', and give a feller a chance to get in near Elmer!"
Meanwhile Elmer had waited until the two scouts had saluted, as they had
been taught to do when meeting a superior officer; since respect to
authority is one of the cardinal principles to which the tenderfoot
subscribes when he first joins a patrol.
"Have you just come from Fairfield, Number Four?" Elmer asked, turning
first to Toby, who belonged to the Wolf Patrol, which was under his own
particular care as patrol leader.
"Yes, sir; been there all day," replied Toby, who was breathing rather
hard, as though he might have been having trouble with his machine on
the road, and had found it necessary to do considerable wrestling with
it in order to make the old tub behave.
"You were dispatched there by our scout master, in order to watch the
start of the Fairfield scouts, and be able to give a detailed report of
the same?" Elmer continued.
"Just what we were, sir; but that was not the whole extent of our
instructions," Toby went on.
"I believe you were also told to stay around during the better part of
the day, mingling with the boys of the town all you could, and learning
if any underhand doings were being engineered among the tough element
outside of the scouts?"
"That's what," replied Toby. "And just this afternoon we got on to
something by accident that we thought ought to be reported to
headquarters. Wanted to phone it, but they're repairing the wire between
here and Fairfield, and we had to try another way. So we hit up a hot
pace and came over direct on our machines; though of course we had
trouble on the road."
"You did the right thing, Number Four," remarked Elmer. "And now, tell
us what you learned. Is there any sign of treachery afoot?"
"Just that, as sure as you live!" cried Nat, unable to hold himself in
longer, when he had as much right to be heard as his mate. "They're
getting up a scheme to upset all our plans. We didn't hear a breath
about it till three, but the fellers in the game had started more'n an
hour before."
"Meaning to waylay our boys, and put them out of the running?" asked
Elmer, showing signs of anger, as well as an eagerness to be moving.
"Yes, but not exactly by what Mr. Garrabrant would call physical
violence," Toby spoke up, pushing his comrade back at the same time.
"Four fellows who don't belong to the scouts, I'm glad to say, started
out in a car, with the intention of finding whether it seemed likely a
Hickory Ridge scout was far in the lead, and if he was, then they meant
to tempt him to ride with them for a mile or more, knowing that if he
did this he would be disqualified in the race."
"And if he refused, what then?" asked Elmer, knowing what the answer
would be.
"They mean to take him along against his will!" shouted Nat,
triumphantly, before Toby could answer.