HOW THE PLOT FAILED.
"HELP, help! he's choking me! Pull him off, you fools, can't you?"
shouted the valiant leader of the four, who had planned to have all this
fun with Lil Artha, and now found that the shoe was on the other foot,
since it seemed to be the tall scout who was enjoying a monopoly of the
sport.
But instead of his mates obeying, he found that they had suddenly ceased
in what efforts they were putting forth. The mystery was not difficult
to solve, because every fellow had enough to do defending himself
against an assailant who had apparently sprung from the darkness.
It was a lively scene for a short time. The Fairfield fellows understood
that in some miserable way their scheme must have become known to the
Hickory Ridge scouts. Perhaps they heard Toby call out the name of Elmer
when asking what he was to do with the fellow on whose back he had
lodged with the tenacity that the Old Man of the Sea exhibited when he
refused to let Sinbad the Sailor put him down.
They struggled hard, but it was no longer with the idea of completing
their cowardly plan. All thought of carrying Lil Artha off in the car
was now abandoned, and each and every Fairfield fellow only considered
his individual chances for making what Nat called a "get-away."
Speaking of Nat, that worthy was really and truly happy. Old times had
come back again, and once more were his muscles being allowed to play
their part in a struggle for the mastery.
He had early picked out the victim whom he felt called upon to punish.
If pugnacious Nat could only have had his sweet way about the matter,
that party would undoubtedly have been the leader of the four Fairfield
schemers; but since Lil Artha already had that worthy "in chancery," as
it is called when one gets his opponent's head under his arm and in a
position of abject helplessness, Nat had to content himself with
selecting a less prominent foeman.
What happened just then and there it would be hardly fair to state,
because of the fact that Nat was a scout in good standing. But there
were several loud thumps heard, and somebody seemed to pick himself up
from the road twice, only to suddenly sit down again, with more grunts
and finally decline to get up at all. Upon which Nat danced around him,
making threatening gestures, and actually daring the alarmed plotter to
try and get on his feet again.
Elmer, on his part, had happened to lay hold of a very slippery
customer. The Hickory Ridge scout did not want to hurt the fellow any
more than he could help; but at the same time he was bound to do all in
his power to hold him; for he meant to take a look at every one of their
faces, so that he could tell them again.
Twice the other had come close to slipping out of his clutches, despite
the grip Elmer had upon him. The second occasion was when with some sort
of movement, which he had possibly practiced until he had it down fine,
the boy suddenly drew his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, and was
in the act of darting away when Elmer threw out a foot and tripped him.
Again he pounced on the other, and this time managed to get a good grip,
so as to be able to exert himself. The consequence was that he spun the
Fairfield chap around on his back and was able to place a knee on his
chest.
"Now, lie still, you, unless you want to get hurt!" Elmer exclaimed; and
being by this time of the opinion that he had run up against a buzz-saw
in action, the panting and defeated plotter gave in.
The clamor had for the most part ceased. Only Nat seemed to be doing an
Indian war dance around his prostrate foeman and shaking his fist every
little while in the fellow's face.
"Don't hit me!" yelled the alarmed one. "I'm all in, don't you see? I
cave! I'm a prisoner, and scouts don't dare hit a defenseless fellow, do
they?"
"Aw, you make me think of a coward that would hide behind a woman's
skirts!" declared Nat, in disgust, because his enjoyment had been so
suddenly cut short by the collapse of his opponent. "Why don't you stand
up and take your medicine like a little man? Just because I belong to
the scouts I ain't allowed to hand you what you'd give me if you had the
upper hand. It's tough, that's what."
Possibly Nat might have been tempted beyond his powers of resistance but
for the fact of the patrol leader's presence.
"Hold up there, Nat, Toby, Lil Artha!" called out Elmer just then. "How
is the world treating you, fellows?"
"All to the good here," chuckled Toby, who was still clinging to the
back of his capture and showed no inclination to let go.
"My pig looks like thirty cents!" said the tall scout who, left to
himself, had speedily reduced his opponent.
"And mine is on the blink, too," declared Nat.
"Shucks, I ain't had hardly a mite of fun out of it all! He laid down on
me, that's what he did, Elmer."
"'Taint so," bawled the fellow, indignantly. "He just went and knocked
me down two times, and here he goes now waving his old fist under my
nose like he wanted to do it some more. Call him off, Elmer, the game's
all up and we cave!"
"All right, boys, glad to hear it," sang out the patrol leader; "but
before we let you go we're bound to have a look at every one of your
faces, so we can know you again."
There was more or less muttering at this, for the Fairfield boys began
to see that they were doubtless in for considerable unenviable publicity
on account of the affair. But beggars can seldom be choosers. They found
themselves helpless in the hands of their enemies, and must do exactly
what they were told.
So Elmer took out his match-safe and prepared to strike a light.
"See if you know the fellow you've got hold of, boys," he called.
Then the little illumination flared up.
"I know this duck all right!" called out Toby. "He's Dick Rawlings who
used to play center field on the Fairfield nine."
"And I've got Eddie Johnston, just as I expected!" announced Lil Artha
who, it will be remembered, had seized upon the leader of the quartette
by whom he had been stopped on the road with the demand that he ride,
whether he wanted to do so or not.
"I don't seem to know this cowardly cub," declared Nat, who had lighted
a match on his own account, and bent low over his prisoner. "He makes
the worst faces you ever saw, just to keep me from knowing him again.
Here, stop your throwing your head around that way, or else you'll get
burned! Hey! what did I tell you? Got a little dose of it then, did you?
And one of your eyebrows singed right off! Well, you _will_ be a beaut
for a while now, and I reckon I can put my finger on you any time I
want."
"You did that apurpose!" shouted the fellow on the ground, glaring at
the grinning Nat. "You just wanted to mark me, that's what!"
"Oh, rats! Close your trap now and see how you can run," laughed Nat, as
he took a firm grip on the collar of the other, and started to drag him
up off the ground, the fellow whimpering all the while as though he
really expected that he was going to be badly treated.
"Who's your bug, Elmer?" cried Lil Artha.
"I think his name is Sandy Coons; anyhow he's got cross-eyes and that
ought to mark him, if ever we want to prove that he was here," replied
the patrol leader, as he assisted the fellow to get up.
"That's O. K., Elmer," declared Lil Artha. "Sandy Coons has got a pair
of the crookedest eyes ever; and if you look close you'll see he's got a
notch in his right ear. I remember when he got that, too; a fellow he
was with pinned his ear to a tree with an arrow he fired, when they were
playing Buffalo Bill's Wild West, and when Sandy tore loose it left a
dent. Is it there, Elmer?"
"Sure as you live," laughed the other, as he looked.
"Then we know the whole cahoot of 'em," declared Lil Artha, "And now,
please hurry up and get 'em on the jump, Elmer, because it's time I was
hiking out again, you understand."
"What're you going to do with us, fellows?" asked the leader, as they
were being ranged in line.
"We're going to start you down the road to meet Felix and tell him the
game's all up," said Toby, who seemed to believe the Fairfield
competitor must be aware of the scheme by means of which he was to be
benefited; though Elmer on his part thought better of the rival scout.
"But--our car is here," expostulated one of the prisoners.
"Then come back and get it later on; we don't mean to run away with it.
But if you take my advice, you'll cut for home right away, because this
thing has gone to the limit. And anyone trying to hamper Lil Artha any
further is liable to get himself seriously hurt. Understand that, all?"
and Elmer allowed his voice to express the indignation that surged
through his soul.
"Aw, let us loose! You know we've thrown up the sponge, and it's to the
tall timber for the lot," grumbled the leader.
Nat suddenly made a rapid movement. There was a cry, and then a fellow
started at a rapid pace along the road. Nat, unable to hold in any
longer, had given his prisoner the start he promised, which, of course,
meant a hearty kick.
Elmer let his captive go scot-free, which fact so aroused the
indignation of Nat that he darted after the fleeing Sandy Coons, and by
rapid work succeeded in placing his number seven in the place where it
would do the most good. At least the others judged this from the
agonized shriek that floated back to their ears.
Lil Artha was quick to see a good thing and show his appreciation. In
his mind imitation was the sincerest flattery; and accordingly the
successor in the bully line to Matt Tubbs was heard to loudly declare
that he would never, never cease to remember the long-legged scout; but
upon hearing the aggressive Nat making in his direction he, too, faded
away.
That left only one to be treated, and this the chap whom Toby had been
riding as he might a horse. This fellow, understanding that he was in
for a good dose of the same kind of medicine, began struggling again,
hoping to upset his captor and in some way make off without submitting
to that humiliating experience.
It was of no use, however. Lil Artha took hold of him, and then told
Toby to let go. There was some little confusion, and then the fellow
galloped madly up the road, bellowing as though in pain.
"Did you get him?" asked Toby, eagerly.
"Well, I nearly broke my toe, because you see I'm wearing light walking
shoes on this hike. And how about you, Toby?" laughed the tall one.
"Dick Rawlings won't play ball for a little while; till he gets over his
limp, anyway," answered the other.
"Field's clear now, Elmer, ain't it?" asked Lil Artha, turning to the
patrol leader for further orders.
"Yes, and the sooner you're off again the better, Lil Artha," replied
Elmer. "You see, that Felix has been coming along all this while, and
perhaps he may be nearer than we think. How is it with you now; ready to
put in your best licks on the home stretch?"
"I'm just feeling as fresh as a daisy, Elmer," replied the other. "This
little business seems to have given me a new appetite. You watch me just
eat up the miles. Nine of 'em, do you say? Shucks, I'll be in Little
Falls before two hours!"
"Bully for Lil Artha!" exclaimed Nat, clapping his hands.
"Well, we'll put it out of the power of these fellows to pursue you any
farther, by taking their spark plug along. Ten to one they haven't got
an extra plug with them. And, Toby, Nat, we mustn't forget that we've
got machines a ways back here."
"That's right, Elmer. Do we get a move on us, and go for 'em now?" asked
Nat.
Lil Artha had already waved his hand at them, and started off along the
road at a stiff pace, which seemed to emphasize the truth of what he had
just said about feeling as "fresh as a daisy."
"That's just what we're going to do," replied the other; "so come along
boys."
"Gee! I hope we happen to run foul of one of them fellers again,"
laughed Nat.
"Don't be a hog, Nat," admonished Toby. "You had ought to remember that
now you belong to the scouts you've got to be merciful."
"Ain't I?" protested the pugnacious one. "Didn't I just kick that feller
with the singed eyebrow, when I might have punched his head? Guess I
know my duty, Toby Jones!"